THE  MYSTEFC 
OF  MIRIAM 

J.  WESLEY  JOHNSTON 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  MIRIAM 


jaaocmcvw&xKi^^ 


THE  MYSTERY*/ 

CDtriam 

By   J.   WESLEY    JOHNSTON 

Author  of  "Dwellers  in  Gotham," 
"The  Riddle  of  Life,  "etc. 


BOSTON 
HERBERT  B.  TURNER  fcf  CO. 

1904 


Copyright,  1904,  by 
HERBERT  B.  TURNER  &  Co. 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall 
All  rights  reserved 


Published  May,  1904 


Colonial  $re«» 

Eloctrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 


EVELYN,  HAROLD  £5?  GRACE; 

these  three; 
but  the  greatest  of  these  is 


NEW  YORK,  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK    I.     MIRIAM 


CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I. 

MR.  SAXBY  AT  HOME 

I 

II. 

III. 

18 

IV. 

AN  EVENTFUL  NIGHT         .        .        . 

.       28 

V. 

MRS.  SAXBY'S  INTUITION     . 

•       38 

VI. 

A  HONGKONG  APPOINTMENT 

•       45 

VII. 

DANGERS  OF  THE  SEA 

•      59 

VIII. 

IX. 

NEW  YORK  AND  HARD  TIMES  . 

.      89 

X. 

MR.    MlLLTRUM    OF    CHICAGO 

.      98 

XI. 

MR.  SAXBY  BECOMES  ANXIOUS  . 

.      112 

XII. 

A  WEDDING        

.      124 

BOOK   II.     JUDITH 

I. 

JUDITH          

•      135 

II. 

A  DINNER  -  PARTY       .... 

.       148 

III. 

161 

IV. 

SAXBY  VERSUS  MILLTRUM  .        . 

-     175 

V. 

EAVESDROPPING           .... 

.     187 

VI. 

VINCENT  PERRIN         .... 

.     199 

VII. 

THE  PURSUIT  AND  ESCAPE 

.     213 

VIII. 

A  VISIT  TO  THE  SEMBRADA 

.     226 

IX. 

A  TRIP  TO  NEVADA    .... 

•     237 

CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

PAGE 

X. 

A  CONFERENCE  AT  THE  STATION 

.     249 

XI. 

AN  INTERRUPTED  EXCURSION     . 

.    266 

BOOK    III.     MIRIAM 

I. 

THE  AMERICAN  CHAPEL 

.    279 

II. 

III. 

THE  GEMMI  PASS        .... 

IV. 

THE  DESCENT      . 

•     324 

v. 

VI. 

VII. 

AT  MRS.  BEDFORD'S  RECEPTION 

•     37i 

VIII. 

FATHER  AUVERGNE  OF  ST.  JOHN'S    . 

•     385 

IX. 

AN  ATTACK  ON  MILLTRUM  BROTHERS 

•     398 

X. 

HUSBAND  AND  WIFE  .... 

.    412 

XI. 

JUDITH'S  ATONEMENT 

•    427 

XII. 

THE  COMBINATION  ENDS     . 

•    442 

XIII. 

4?2 

BOOK  I. 

MIRIAM 


THE 

MYSTERY   OF   MIRIAM 


i. 

MR.  SAXBY  AT  HOME 


AT 


a  given  hour  every  morning,  with  a  punc- 
tuality almost  unvarying,  the  well-appointed  car- 
riage of  Mr.  Gaston  Saxby  appeared  at  the  door 
of  his  house  in  Pelham,  and,  almost  before  the 
horses  came  to  a  stand-still,  Mr.  Saxby  would 
walk  down  the  broad  stone  steps,  take  his  place 
in  the  carriage,  and  drive  off  to  the  railway  sta- 
tion. 

So  regular  were  these  movements  on  the  part 
of  Mr.  Saxby,  that  in  time  they  came  to  be  re- 
garded as  an  established  custom,  any  break  caus- 
ing both  wonder  and  inquiry.  It  was,  therefore, 
with  no  little  surprise  that  the  neighbors  saw  the 
carriage  depart  one  morning  without  its  usual 
occupant,  and,  after  a  time,  return  from  the  sta- 
tion as  empty  as  when  it  started. 


2          THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Something  evidently  was  wrong,  —  what,  no 
one  could  tell.  Mr.  Saxby  had  been  seen  the 
evening  before  with  Mrs.  Saxby  and  their  daugh- 
ter Miriam,  returning  from  New  York,  so  busi- 
ness men,  on  their  way  to  the  station,  as  they 
saw  the  empty  carriage,  questioned  each  other 
as  to  what  it  meant.  On  the  train  various  in- 
quiries were  made,  some  even  asking  the  con- 
ductor what  had  become  of  his  most  regular 
passenger. 

What  puzzled  all  of  them  was  the  fact  that 
the  empty  carriage  had  gone  that  morning  to 
the  station,  and,  after  waiting  there  for  the  train 
from  New  York,  had  driven  off  without  any  one 
opening  its  door,  or  the  coachman  leaving  his 
seat.  Some  thought  that  Mr.  Saxby  had  been 
overworking  of  late  and  was  taking  a  day  off; 
others  were  of  opinion  that  he  was  expecting 
certain  Western  capitalists,  with  whom  he  was 
suspected  of  being  in  treaty;  while  others  only 
shrugged  their  shoulders,  as  though  the  matter 
did  not  especially  concern  them.  But  soon  other 
topics  of  conversation  presented  themselves,  and 
for  the  time  Mr.  Saxby  and  his  empty  carriage 
were  forgotten. 

In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Saxby  was  in  his  library, 
impatiently  waiting  the  return  of  the  carriage 
from  the  station,  for  he  was  expecting  the  ar- 
rival of  his  secretary  to  assist  him  in  examining 
a  number  of  very  important  documents,  a  task 


MR.    SAXBY    AT    HOME  3 

for  which  he  preferred  the  quiet  of  his  suburban 
home. 

Something  in  these  documents,  or  relating  to 
them,  troubled  Mr.  Saxby.  One  would  have 
thought  that  any  man  might  be  measurably  con- 
tent in  such  a  home,  and  particularly  in  the  lux- 
uriously furnished  room  where  he  was  sitting. 
A  fire  burned  cheerfully  in  the  open  grate,  dif- 
fusing its  pleasant  warmth  and  softening  the 
chill  of  the  early  November  day.  Rich  hangings 
of  Oriental  design  and  color  tempered  the  light 
that  filled  the  spacious  windows.  The  walls  and 
ceilings,  of  sombre  hue,  suggested  the  work  of 
a  genuine  artist.  Bookcases  of  dark  mahogany, 
which  not  only  held  costly  and  tempting  editions, 
but  served  as  a  resting-place  for  rare  bronzes 
and  costly  bric-a-brac,  occupied  two  sides  of  the 
library.  Over  the  mantelpiece,  which  was  also 
of  mahogany  and  handsomely  carved,  hung 
a  genuine  Velasquez,  for  which  Mr.  Saxby 
had  paid  a  small  fortune.  An  exquisite  Per- 
sian rug  almost  covered  the  entire  floor,  leaving 
just  margin  enough  to  reveal  the  polished 
hard  wood,  which  shone  in  the  glancing  fire- 
light. 

The  table  on  which  Mr.  Saxby's  hand  rested 
was  severe  but  massive,  and,  though  partially 
covered  with  books  and  papers,  it  had  ample  ac- 
commodations for  as  many  more.  So  far  as 
surroundings  were  concerned,  Mr.  Saxby  had 


4          THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

no  cause  to  be  restless,  and  much  less  to  be  irri- 
table. 

As  he  rose  hastily  from  his  chair  and  walked 
impatiently  to  the  window,  it  was  evident  that  he 
was  hale  and  vigorous.  He  appeared  a  little 
heavy  under  the  eyes  —  not  an  uncommon  thing 
with  men  who  live  in  the  atmosphere  of  Wall 
Street  —  and  his  neck  was  somewhat  large  for 
a  man  of  his  build.  His  hair  had  hardly  a  tinge 
of  gray,  his  eyes  were  wonderfully  clear,  his 
square  shoulders  were  well  thrown  back,  and 
every  movement  indicated  alertness  and  power. 
He  looked  masterful,  resolute,  as  if  accustomed 
to  battle  with  his  fellows,  —  a  man  who  asked 
no  quarter,  extended  no  mercy,  and  never  sent 
a  flag  of  truce  or  acknowledged  defeat.  Proud, 
resourceful,  with  ambitions  all  his  own,  marvel- 
lously successful  in  most  of  his  undertakings, 
Mr.  Saxby  had  good  reason  to  expect  and  even 
demand  much  from  the  years  that  yet  awaited 
him. 

Not  far  from  fifty,  with  a  body  which  he  could 
afford  at  times  to  work  as  a  galley-slave;  a 
mind  not  only  singularly  active  but  capable  of 
enduring  prolonged  strain ;  ample  means  to  carry 
out  either  purpose  or  whim,  Mr.  Saxby  was  a 
force  to  be  reckoned  with  by  both  friends  and 
foes. 

Glancing  sharply  from  the  library  window, 
he  saw  the  carriage  turning  the  bend  of  the  road ; 


MR.    SAXBY   AT   HOME  5 

then  he  went  back  to  the  table,  and,  taking  up 
what  seemed  to  be  a  legal  document,  he  opened  a 
drawer  and  placed  it  with  some  other  papers, 
evidently  a  private  collection  intended  only  for 
his  own  use.  This  done,  he  locked  the  drawer 
with  a  key  of  peculiar  design  selected  from  a 
small  bunch  which  he  carried  in  an  inner  pocket. 
Having  replaced  the  keys,  he  was  about  to  sit 
down  again  at  the  table  when  some  one  tapped 
gently  on  the  library  door. 

"  Come  in,"  Mr.  Saxby  said,  pleasantly,  and 
was  just  about  to  add  "  Good  morning,  Mr.  Wal- 
ters," when  he  saw  that  it  was  not  his  secretary 
who  entered,  but  the  hall  servant,  with  a  message 
from  the  coachman  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Walters 
had  not  come  on  the  morning  train. 

'  Tell  Cooney  I  wish  to  see  him,"  Mr.  Saxby 
replied  as  pleasantly  as  before,  for  he  had  learned 
the  value  of  keeping  his  voice  under  perfect  con- 
trol. Hence  he  rarely  spoke  except  in  a  certain 
tone,  low,  calm,  distinct,  but  with  a  peculiar 
quality  which  carried  the  precise  meaning  he 
intended  to  convey. 

"  Were  you  at  the  station  in  time  for  the 
train  ? "  he  asked  Cooney,  who  had  been  his 
coachman  for  some  years. 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  waited  nearly  ten  minutes," 
Cooney  answered,  respectfully,  his  speech  sug- 
gesting the  delicious  accent  of  the  County 
Cork. 


6          THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Did  you  see  any  passengers  get  off  here  ?  " 

"  Only  three  came  by  that  train,  sir,  —  Mr. 
Dady  the  grocer,  and  two  painters  who  are  work- 
ing on  a  house  down  the  street." 

"  You  would  know  Mr.  Walters  if  you  saw 
him?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  sure ;  I  have  met  him  two  or  three 
times  at  the  station  and  taken  him  back  again." 

"  That  will  do,  Cooney,"  Mr.  Saxby  said,  re- 
suming his  chair  and  drawing  it  up  closer  to  the 
table. 

Something  surely  had  gone  amiss  with  Mr. 
Walters.  Never  before  had  Mr.  Saxby  known 
him  to  miss  an  appointment.  Careful,  method- 
ical, regular,  with  a  genius  for  punctuality,  Mr. 
Walters  was  indeed  a  model  secretary.  So  com- 
plete was  Mr.  Saxby's  confidence  in  the  ability 
and  integrity  of  his  secretary  that  he  rarely  trou- 
bled himself  with  his  most  important  letters  after 
dictating  them,  assured  that  in  Mr.  Walters's 
hands  they  were  beyond  question. 

While  wondering  as  to  the  cause  of  Mr.  Wal- 
ters's non-appearance,  the  telephone  bell  rang  in 
his  library,  and,  going  to  the  wire,  Mr.  Saxby 
recognized  the  voice  of  Mr.  Crewe,  his  office 
manager. 

"  We  have  just  heard  from  Mr.  Walters,"  the 
office  manager  said ;  "  he  got  hurt  at  the  Brook- 
lyn Bridge  this  morning,  and  was  taken  to  a  hos- 
pital up-town.  A  telephone  message  from  the 


MR.    SAXBY    AT    HOME  7 

hospital  says  that  he  is  not  seriously  injured, 
but  won't  be  able  to  come  to  the  office  for  some 
weeks." 

"  Send  up  at  once  and  see  that  everything 
is  done  to  make  him  comfortable.  Also  send  a 
message  to  his  people  in  Brooklyn,  telling  them 
to  engage  a  private  room  for  him  at  the  hospital, 
and  to  spare  no  expense,"  Mr.  Saxby  replied, 
promptly.  Then  he  added :  "  Have  Mr.  Bed- 
ford come  to  the  'phone."  For  a  few  moments 
there  was  silence,  Mr.  Saxby  standing  meantime 
holding  the  receiver  to  his  ear,  then,  "  I  am  at 
the  telephone,  Mr.  Saxby,"  informed  him  that 
Mr.  Bedford  was  waiting  to  receive  his  com- 
mands. "  Mr.  Bedford,  I  wish  you  to  assist  me 
with  some  special  correspondence.  Take  the  ten- 
thirty  train  for  Pelham,  a  carriage  will  meet  you 
at  the  station.  You  may  have  to  remain  here 
overnight.  Arrange  to  do  so  in  case  it  is  neces- 
sary." 

Some  of  Paul  Bedford's  fellow  clerks  were 
at  first  a  little  envious  when  it  became  known  in 
the  office  that  he  was  going  to  Pelham,  and 
might  remain  at  Mr.  Saxby's  for  the  night.  Only 
Mr.  Crewe  and  Mr.  Walters  had  thus  far  been 
so  favored;  the  one  because  of  his  position  as 
confidential  manager,  the  other  in  his  capacity  as 
private  secretary.  While  little  was  known  in  the 
office  of  Mr.  Saxby's  home,  it  was  naturally  as- 
sumed that  a  man  of  his  wealth  would  house 


8          THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

himself  in  becoming  style  and  maintain  a  state 
which  he  could  amply  afford. 

The  first  feeling  of  envy,  however,  on  account 
of  Paul  Bedford's  good  fortune,  soon  wore  away. 
He  was  a  general  favorite  in  the  office,  having 
qualities  that  made  him  very  popular.  Dark- 
haired,  dark-eyed,  deep  enough  in  color  to  pass 
for  a  Spaniard  or  Italian,  he  was  also  tall  and 
athletic  in  build,  and  fully  as  handsome  as  a 
man  has  a  right  to  be.  He  had  also  other 
endowments  that  added  to  his  value,  both  socially 
and  otherwise.  Without  the  least  assumption, 
though  not  unconsciously,  he  carried  his  pleasant 
burden  of  twenty-four  years  just  as  every  strong, 
handsome  young  fellow  should.  Maidens  of 
various  degrees  smiled  upon  him  approvingly, 
and  he,  it  must  be  said,  smiled  in  return,  but,  as 
his  were  smiles  in  the  abstract,  no  great  harm  was 
done.  Somewhere  in  his  veins  was  a  dreamy, 
poetic  tinge,  which  might  shade  off  into  romance 
or  deepen  into  tragedy,  as  the  fates  pleased  to 
decide. 

Soon  after  receiving  Mr.  Saxby's  message, 
Paul  Bedford  left  the  office  on  Wall  Street.  In 
half  an  hour  he  was  at  the  Grand  Central  Sta- 
tion, and  before  noon  was  hard  at  work  in  Mr. 
Saxby's  library  at  Pelham. 


II. 

MIRIAM 

>EFORE  the  day  was  half  spent,  Paul  Bed- 
ford surprised  Mr.  Saxby  at  the  ease  with  which 
he  filled  his  new  and  difficult  position.  At  first 
there  were  matters  comparatively  simple,  —  let- 
ters, statements,  general  correspondence,  —  all 
of  which  involved  no  special  labor.  But  as  Mr. 
Saxby  noted  how  quickly  Paul  received  his  most 
rapid  dictation,  his  prompt  recognition  of  facts 
and  details,  and  his  ability  to  follow  him  with- 
out elaborate  explanations,  he  took  up  the  more 
serious  business  of  the  day,  for  which  he  had 
summoned  Mr.  Walters.  Contracts  were  studied, 
proposals  examined,  calculations  made  and  com- 
pared, immense  purchases  ordered,  and  young 
Bedford  saw  for  the  first  time  some  of  the  mental 
processes  by  which  Mr.  Saxby  accomplished  his 
work. 

That  any  one  man  could  be  the  moving  force 
of  such  varied  and  complicated  interests  seemed 
impossible.  To  Mr.  Saxby  the  world  was  merely 

a  chess-board,  and  he  played  on  States  and  king- 

9 


10        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

doms  as  on  so  many  squares.  He  moved  moun- 
tains of  coal  or  iron  like  pawns  in  the  game. 
Statesmen  and  rulers  were  but  as  pieces  in  his 
hand  to  be  disposed  as  best  suited  his  purpose. 
With  unerring  strategy  he  marshalled  his  forces 
in  such  order  as  to  make  his  defence  complete, 
and  the  attack  overwhelming. 

But  what  seemed  to  Paul  even  more  wonderful 
was  the  eagerness,  the  zeal,  the  spirit  of  battle 
which  possessed  Mr.  Saxby.  His  eyes  shone. 
His  voice  was  electric  with  intensity.  The  air 
of  the  library  was  as  if  charged  with  some  dom- 
inating force  which  must  bear  down  all  that 
would  oppose  it.  Paul  knew  nothing  of  the  men 
who  had  combined  to  thwart  Mr.  Saxby,  and, 
if  possible,  compass  his  ruin,  save  from  vague 
rumors  on  the  street,  yet  he  felt  as  if  the  day  of 
reckoning  had  come  and  a  terrible  revenge  was 
at  hand.  Keenly  sensitive,  Mr.  Saxby's  mes- 
meric excitement  soon  began  to  tell  on  Paul,  and 
ere  long  he  had  the  spirit  of  a  young  soldier  fol- 
lowing close  upon  a  daring  leader,  reckless  of 
everything  save  the  victory  which  must  be  won. 

"  We  will  rest  now,"  Mr.  Saxby  said,  leaning 
back  in  his  chair,  "  and  I  think  a  cup  of  coffee 
would  not  be  amiss." 

Without  waiting  for  Paul  to  reply,  he  touched 
an  electric  bell,  and  in  a  few  moments  a  servant 
entered  with  a  tray,  upon  which  were  the  essen- 
tials of  a  substantial  lunch. 


MIRIAM  11 

"  You  smoke,  of  course,"  Mr.  Saxby  said,  when 
the  coffee  stage  had  been  reached,  producing  from 
a  drawer  in  the  table  a  box  of  cigars.  "  I  think 
you  will  find  these  fairly  good,"  he  continued, 
opening  the  box  and  passing  it  to  Paul. 

Paul  did  not  know  that  Mr.  Saxby  had  never 
once  offered  a  cigar  to  Mr.  Walters.  Had  he 
been  aware  of  that  fact  he  would  probably  have 
declined  the  proffered  courtesy,  but  he  took  a 
cigar  with  some  hesitation. 

For  a  few  minutes  both  men  smoked  in  silence, 
Paul  respectfully  waiting  for  Mr.  Saxby  to  speak. 

After  a  time  he  asked  abruptly : 

"  Where  did  you  learn  to  write  shorthand  ?  " 

"  At  college,"  Paul  answered. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure.  Notes  of  lectures  and  things 
of  that  kind." 

"  No,  though  I  found  it  useful  in  that  way,  but 
to  help  me  through." 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

"  By  newspaper  work,  writing  for  some  of 
the  cheaper  magazines,  and  occasionally  doing 
something  a  little  better." 

"For  extra  spending-money,  I  suppose?" 

This  question  was  accompanied  by  a  look  of 
deeper  interest  than  Mr.  Saxby  had  given  before. 

"  For  all  the  money  I  needed,"  Paul  answered, 
bravely,  though  with  a  slight  flush. 

"Yale  or  Harvard?" 

"  Syracuse." 


12        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  I  remember  now  that  Mr.  Crewe  said  you 
were  from  the  upper  part  of  the  State.  Were  you 
born  there  ?  " 

"  I  am  a  Virginian,"  Paul  said,  quietly.  Never- 
theless a  degree  of  pride  worked  itself  into  his 
voice,  for  the  Virginian  has  yet  to  be  born  who 
does  not  glory  in  his  native  State. 

Mr.  Saxby  could  easily  fill  in  the  outline  sug- 
gested by  Paul's  replies.  And  a  glance  at  Paul 
himself  would  enable  him  the  more  readily  to 
complete  the  picture.  True,  he  could  not  recall 
the  years  of  war,  when  Virginia  shed  its  richest 
blood  in  espousal  of  the  Confederacy ;  when  Rich- 
mond from  its  capitol  held  aloft  the  flag  for  which 
so  many  had  battled  to  the  death;  neither  could 
he  remember  the  terrible  days  of  disappointment, 
defeat,  disaster,  the  humiliation  of  surrender,  the 
return  of  the  broken-hearted  warriors  only  to 
find  bereaved  families,  plantations  in  desolation, 
and  with  a  terrible  struggle  in  hopelessness  and 
poverty  ahead  of  them. 

Mr.  Saxby' s  financial  interests  in  the  South, 
however,  gave  him  ample  opportunity  to  know 
the  real  conditions  there,  so  he  could  at  once  tell 
why  Paul  Bedford  came  North,  why  he  was 
forced  to  work  his  way  through  college,  and 
as  soon  as  college  days  were  over,  enter  at  once 
into  business,  taking  the  first  available  offering 
he  could  find. 

Mr.  Saxby  was  not  wont  to  express  generous 


MIRIAM  13 

sympathy.  People  who  claimed  to  know  him 
said  he  had  less  heart  than  a  steam-engine,  for 
an  engine  cylinder  does  get  warm  at  times. 
Nevertheless,  he  admired  grit,  and  wherever  he 
found  a  man  who  had  courage  enough  to  fight 
his  way  out,  he  recognized  in  him  a  kindred 
spirit.  So  there  was  something  of  respect  in  the 
look  which  he  bestowed  on  Paul.  And  later, 
when  work  was  resumed,  he  seemed  to  place  a 
higher  value  on  Paul's  services,  going  so  far, 
more  than  once,  as  to  request  an  opinion  from 
him. 

"  We  can  finish  later  in  the  evening,"  Mr. 
Saxby  said,  glancing  at  the  clock.  "  It  is  almost 
dinner-time,"  and,  while  speaking,  he  touched 
the  electric  bell,  which,  as  before,  was  answered 
with  singular  promptness. 

"  Show  Mr.  Bedford  to  his  room,"  he  said, 
when  the  servant  entered,  leaving  at  once  for  his 
own  apartments. 

"  Dinner  is  served  at  seven,"  the  servant  re- 
plied to  Paul's  question,  adding,  in  a  respectful 
undertone :  "  And  seven  is  seven  with  Mr. 
Saxby." 

Paul  smilingly  accepted  the  kindly  hint  of 
the  servant,  and  was  in  the  parlor  several  min- 
utes ahead  of  time.  Soon  Mr.  Saxby  came 
in,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Saxby,  an  elaborately 
dressed  and  rather  imposing  personage,  whose 
reception  of  Paul  was  somewhat  chilling.  That 


14        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Paul  was  undeniably  handsome  she  saw  at  a 
glance.  Also  that  he  was  an  aristocrat  to  the 
finger-tips,  and  in  appearance  worthy  of  courteous 
recognition  in  even  such  a  home  as  hers.  But 
his  easy,  quiet  acceptance  of  an  approach  to  equal- 
ity was  the  sin  unpardonable,  and,  as  Mrs.  Saxby 
saw  young  Bedford  walk  across  the  parlor  with 
her  husband  to  get  a  closer  look  at  a  Corot,  of 
which  they  had  been  speaking,  then  heard  him 
refer  to  the  artist  as  if  familiar  with  his  work, 
she  thought  his  presumption  simply  boundless. 
She  did  not  know  that  in  these  moments  Paul 
Bedford's  spirit  had  gone  back  to  the  spirits 
of  his  fathers,  and  was  incarnating  itself  in  the 
graceful  courtesy  of  the  high-bred  Southern  cav- 
alier. For  the  time  he  was  no  mere  hireling 
in  the  service  of  Mr.  Saxby ;  he  was  a  Virginian, 
in  whose  veins  throbbed  the  blood  from  which 
poets,  orators,  warriors,  statesmen  had  come. 
These  things  of  course  Mrs.  Saxby  did  not  know. 
Nor  would  the  knowledge  of  them  have  affected 
her.  For  hers  was  not  a  nature  to  be  influenced 
by  such  an  appeal. 

"  Am  I  late  ?  "  Paul  heard,  in  a  voice  which 
had  something  of  Mr.  Saxby's  tone,  only  so  mod- 
ulated that  the  question  seemed  a  bit  of  exquisite 
melody.  Eagerly  Paul  listened,  as  the  voice  went 
on :  "I  was  detained  at  Mrs.  Grattan's.  Indeed, 
I  could  hardly  get  away." 

"  You  have  just  saved  yourself,  Miriam,"  Mr. 


MIRIAM  15 

Saxby  said,  pleasantly,  then  introduced  Paul, 
who  was  standing  beside  him. 

A  sweet,  quaint  picture  Miriam  suggested  to 
Paul,  as,  in  her  dinner-gown  of  purest  white, 
made  after  the  Colonial  fashion,  she  gracefully 
acknowledged  his  courteous  salutation.  Not  quite 
of  medium  height,  she  gave  the  impression  of  be- 
ing taller,  the  result  probably  of  a  certain  gravity 
in  her  look,  and  also  a  rather  striking  arrange- 
ment of  her  hair.  Her  face  was  oval,  and  made 
still  more  definite  by  dark,  heavy  eyebrows  of 
more  than  the  usual  curve.  Her  eyes  were  large, 
and  in  the  night  looked  almost  black,  but  in  real- 
ity they  were  deep  brown,  and  shone  with  singu- 
lar brilliance.  She  had  a  high,  white  forehead, 
and  her  hair,  darker  even  than  her  eyes,  was 
parted  so  that  it  waved  almost  regularly  on  either 
side,  then  fell  to  her  ears,  where  it  was  caught 
and  drawn  back  as  in  the  days  of  long  ago.  This 
gave  her  face  the  appearance  of  being  set  in  a 
frame  wonderfully  appropriate  and  becoming. 
She  was  pale,  too  much  so  perhaps  for  one  of 
her  years,  for  she  had  just  turned  twenty,  but 
there  was  nothing  fragile  or  delicate  in  her  ap- 
pearance. 

As  Paul  looked  at  her,  —  his  spirit  yet  with 
his  ancestors,  —  he  could  see  in  the  distant  Vir- 
ginian home  pictures  which  had  filled  his  boyish 
eyes,  and  he  wondered  if  one  of  the  maidens, 
for  whose  smile  men  would  battle  with  each  other, 


16        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

and  in  whose  gleaming  eyes  lovers  saw  a  light 
more  glorious  than  ever  fell  on  land  or  sea,  had 
not  escaped  from  its  frame  on  the  gallery  wall 
and  again  appeared  in  flesh  and  blood. 

If  a  servant  had  not  just  then  solemnly  an- 
nounced "  Dinner  is  served,"  Paul  might  have 
been  tempted  to  indulge  in  reverie,  but  he  rallied 
himself,  and,  with  the  dignity  of  one  born  in  the 
purple,  led  Miss  Saxby  to  the  dining-room,  she 
accepting  his  arm  with  seemingly  as  much  will- 
ingness as  though  he  was  the  proud  heir  of  ba- 
ronial halls. 

From  every  standpoint,  save  that  of  Mrs. 
Saxby,  the  dinner-hour  was  really  enjoyable. 
Mr.  Saxby,  having  disposed  of  the  heavier  and 
more  pressing  business  matters  to  which  he 
had  given  the  day,  entered  spiritedly  into  the 
general  conversation.  Miss  Saxby,  always  find- 
ing much  to  interest  her  and  having  the  gift  of 
interesting  others,  introduced  topics  in  which  all 
could  share.  Paul,  still  in  the  realm  of  the  illus- 
trious sires,  to  whom  snowy  linen,  shining  silver, 
playful  humor,  and  sparkling  conversation  were 
every-day  affairs,  contributed  his  full  share  to  the 
pleasure  of  the  hour. 

Had  he  been  awkward,  ill  at  ease,  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  ways  of  social  life,  and  conducted 
himself  as  one  in  the  presence  of  his  superiors, 
Mrs.  Saxby  would  have  made  due  allowance  for 
the  young  man,  and  pitied  him,  as  she  often  did 


MIRIAM  17 

Mr.  Walters.  But  she  was  forced  to  concede  that 
his  deportment  was  irreproachable,  and  the  con- 
cession made  her  angry.  Nor  did  her  anger  abate 
one  whit  when  she  saw  him  draw  aside  the  por- 
tiere, that  she  and  Miriam  might  pass  out  after 
dinner,  with  a  grace  of  which  Mr.  Saxby  knew 
nothing.  A  few  minutes  later,  he  rejoined  the 
ladies  in  the  parlor,  preferring  his  coffee  with 
them  to  a  cigar  with  Mr.  Saxby.  To  crown  all, 
he  talked  music,  art,  and  literature  with  Miriam, 
as  if  such  things  were  matters  of  ordinary  con- 
versation, and  he  even  had  the  audacity  to  ask 
Miss  Saxby  to  sing! 


III. 

MIDNIGHT  VISITORS 

.UCH  to  Mrs.  Saxby's  surprise,  Miriam  did 
not  resent  Paul  Bedford's  request.  Going  at 
once  to  the  piano,  she  pleasantly  asked : 

"What  shall  I  sing,  Mr.  Bedford?" 

The  work  of  selection  occupied  some  minutes, 
and  naturally  led  to  expressions  of  opinion,  the 
comparison  of  one  song  with  another,  the  merits 
of  different  composers,  and  their  tastes,  being 
by  no  means  at  variance,  a  basis  of  equality  was 
easily  established. 

This  proceeding  added  materially  to  the  angry 
fire  in  Mrs.  Saxby's  breast.  Before,  she  was 
angry  only  with  Paul;  now  Miriam  aroused  her 
indignation.  But  what  could  she  do  ?  Mrs.  Saxby 
rigidly  observed  the  code  of  social  obligation, 
and  that  code,  for  the  time  being,  gave  Paul  Bed- 
ford the  privileges  of  a  guest.  One  thing  she 
was  certain  of,  —  nothing  would  ever  induce  her 
to  receive  Paul  Bedford  in  any  other  way  than 
as  her  husband's  clerk. 

It  was  late  that  night  when  Paul  went  to  his 

18 


MIDNIGHT    VISITORS  19 

room,  having  been  detained  in  the  library  by 
Mr.  Saxby.  Under  ordinary  circumstances,  he 
would  have  smoked  his  good-night  pipe,  and 
have  fallen,  in  due  time,  fast  asleep,  for  he  was 
too  young  and  healthy,  and  too  poor  as  well,  to 
know  anything  of  insomnia. 

The  pipe  was  smoked  and  refilled  again,  but 
he  never  thought  of  sleep.  The  events  of  the 
day  —  in  every  way  unusual  and  with  much 
that  was  exciting  —  so  crowded  upon  him  as 
to  make  him  only  more  wakeful  as  the  night  went 
by.  No  matter  how  his  thoughts  wandered  or 
what  form  they  took,  Miss  Saxby  was  invariably 
in  them.  He  recalled  the  exquisite  figure  she 
made  when  he  was  introduced,  —  a  combination 
of  the  quaint  Puritan  maiden  and  the  dainty 
elegance  of  a  Southern  belle;  he  could  feel  the 
strange  light  flashing  from  her  singularly  ex- 
pressive eyes;  he  remembered  her  bright,  grace- 
ful pleasantries  at  the  dinner-table,  and  the  skill 
with  which  she  turned  aside  the  keen  wit  of  Mr. 
Saxby.  Far  more  grateful  still  was  the  delicious 
memory  of  the  simple  ballad  she  had  sung  in 
response  to  his  wish. 

The  rings  of  smoke  formed  to  his  eye  a 
fleecy  frame  for  Miss  Saxby's  face,  so  strangely 
witching  and  winsome,  even  more  so  now  than 
when  he  had  seen  it  a  few  hours  before.  Then 
he  began  to  dream,  not  the  mere  pleasantry  of 
sleep,  when  the  mystic  angels  of  the  night  unlock 


20        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

the  prison  house  of  clay,  but  the  dream  which 
means  the  opening  of  a  new  life,  when  the  soul 
experiences  a  resurrection,  when  the  white-robed 
figures  of  hope  and  ambition  have  rolled  away  the 
stone,  and  the  eager,  daring  heart,  so  long  en- 
tombed, feels  for  the  first  time  the  thrill  of  its 
own  being. 

In  such  a  mood,  Paul  Bedford  could  not  think 
of  sleep,  wasting  the  night  in  dull,  stupid  heavi- 
ness, and  lose  the  vision  which  had  so  kindled 
and  aroused  him. 

Quietly  opening  the  window,  he  looked  for 
some  time  at  the  sky,  where  the  November  stars 
shone  like  mighty  diamonds,  and  with  a  glory 
he  had  never  felt  before. 

There  was  no  moon ;  the  dark  earth  was  there- 
fore in  striking  contrast  with  the  brilliant  heav- 
ens. Paul's  room  shared  this  darkness,  for  he 
had  turned  off  the  lights  before  opening  the 
window. 

As  he  sat  there  dreaming  and  wondering,  he 
was  startled  by  hearing  hoarse  whispers,  and 
then  a  low  voice,  saying: 

"  The  other  window,  Bill ;    look  out !  " 

Paul's  first  thought  was  that  the  voices  were 
those  of  servants  belonging  to  the  house,  who 
had  been  out  at  some  merrymaking,  and  were 
now  trying  to  enter  their  rooms  without  disturb- 
ing the  household.  Still  he  leaned  forward  and 
listened,  so  as  to  be  certain.  Soon  he  heard : 


MIDNIGHT    VISITORS  21 

"What  about  the  wire?" 

"  Jake  took  care  of  that." 

"When?" 

"  Last  night." 

By  this  time  Paul's  head  was  well  out  of  the 
window,  and,  though  too  dark  to  see  anything 
clearly,  he  was  certain  that  two  men  were  work- 
ing at  a  window  in  the  library,  one  holding 
it  to  deaden  the  noise,  the  other  trying  to  force 
it  open  with  a  burglar's  tool. 

In  a  moment  it  flashed  upon  him  that  Mr. 
Saxby's  apartments  were  over  the  library,  and, 
if  these  men  were  burglars  and  succeeded  in  forc- 
ing an  entrance,  Mr.  Saxby  would  be  at  their 
mercy. 

But  what  if  they  were  servants  of  the  house? 
In  that  case,  any  outcry  or  alarm  would  cause 
serious  trouble,  not  only  to  the  thoughtless  merry- 
makers, but  to  others  as  well.  Meantime  Paul 
kept  a  sharp  watch  on  that  window,  and  his  eyes, 
now  growing  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  could 
see  more  clearly  than  when  he  first  looked  out. 
Very  soon  he  was  satisfied  the  men  were  there, 
for  he  saw  them  noiselessly  raise  the  window 
and  stealthily  creep  into  the  library. 

He  looked  intently  to  observe  if  they  would 
shut  the  window  after  them,  for  then  he  would 
be  certain  of  their  connection  with  the  Saxby 
household,  but  they  left  it  open,  as  if  to  provide 
for  their  escape. 


22        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

And  now  what  was  the  best  thing  to  do  ?  To 
rush  into  the  hall  and  shout  "  Thieves !  Fire ! 
Murder !  "  thus  arousing  the  family  and  servants, 
did  not  seem  to  Paul  the  wisest  course.  Besides, 
it  might  frighten  Miss  Saxby,  and  possibly  do 
her  serious  harm.  This  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.  But  something  must  be  clone,  and  that  speed- 
ily, for  every  moment  was  of  value. 

Fortunately,  he  knew  the  location  of  the  li- 
brary, so,  with  as  little  noise  but  as  much  haste 
as  possible,  he  went  down-stairs  and  quietly 
opened  the  library  door.  Here  everything  was 
dark  and  still  as  the  grave.  Only  for  the  open 
window,  through  which  the  cool  night  air  was 
blowing,  he  might  have  imagined  that  both  eyes 
and  ears  had  deceived  him,  —  the  men  only  shad- 
ows cast  by  the  trees  in  the  dim  starlight,  and 
the  voices  sounds  exaggerated  by  his  own  fancy. 
But  there  was  the  window,  while  on  the  window- 
sill  lay  what  felt  to  his  hand  like  a  coarse  canvas 
or  carpet  bag,  and  in  it  several  heavy  iron  tools. 

With  inborn  courage,  Paul  groped  about  the 
library,  stooping  under  the  long  wide  table  to 
feel  if  any  one  was  hiding  there.  Then  he  lis- 
tened, and  with  such  intentness  that  even  a  low 
breath  would  not  have  escaped  him,  but  not  a 
sound  broke  the  stillness,  save  the  clock  ticking 
on  the  mantelpiece.  Suddenly  he  remembered  the 
door  Mr.  Saxby  had  used  just  before  dinner,  and 
he  was  startled  when  he  made  his  way  across 


MIDNIGHT    VISITORS  23 

the  room  to  find  this  door  wide  open.  Where 
it  led  to  he  knew  not.  Softly  reaching  out  his 
hands  on  either  side,  and  moving  with  extreme 
caution,  Paul  felt  the  woodwork  of  the  door, 
then  the  walls  of  some  hall  or  passageway,  finally 
reaching  the  foot  of  a  staircase.  Again  he  lis- 
tened, hardly  daring  to  breathe,  for  he  thought 
he  heard  sounds  as  of  some  one  going  up-stairs, 
and  pausing  for  a  moment  or  two  on  each  step. 
Then  there  was  a  faint  rustle,  barely  audible, 
yet  it  suggested  to  Paul  that  the  men  had  reached 
the  top  of  the  stairs  and  were  slowly  moving 
along  the  upper  hall.  He  intended  creeping  up 
these  stairs,  but  the  next  moment  he  heard  Mr. 
Saxby  demand : 

"Who  is  there?" 

Instantly  there  was  a  rushing  of  feet,  followed 
by  sounds  of  severe  struggling.  Soon  Paul  was 
in  the  room  from  which  the  noises  came,  where 
he  saw  Mr.  Saxby  on  the  bed  fiercely  contending 
with  two  men,  one  of  whom  had  caught  him  by 
the  throat  and  was  holding  a  sponge  to  his  mouth 
and  nose.  As  Paul  dashed  into  the  room,  the 
burglars  saw  that  anything  by  way  of  robbery 
was  now  impossible.  The  most  they  could  do 
was  make  their  escape,  no  matter  what  it  cost. 

Under  the  pretence  of  being  painters  working 
in  an  empty  house  not  far  from  Mr  Saxby's,  they 
had  eluded  suspicion,  and  when  Cooney,  Mr. 
Saxby's  coachman,  spoke  of  their  coming  on 


24        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

the  morning  train,  it  never  once  occurred  to 
him  that  he  was  referring  to  two  of  the  most 
noted  burglars  in  New  York. 

With  all  of  their  preparations,  they  were  dis- 
concerted by  finding  a  light  in  Mr.  Saxby's  room, 
though  so  low  and  shaded  that  little  of  it  reached 
his  bed.  They  were  also  surprised  at  the  sud- 
denness with  which  he  detected  their  presence, 
for  their  movements  had  been  almost  noiseless. 

But  far  more  important  than  these  things  was 
the  young  man  who  rushed  into  the  room,  with 
a  face  as  that  of  a  soldier  in  battle,  and  a  bearing 
athletic  and  powerful. 

Nothing  remained  now  but  a  fight,  perhaps  to 
the  death.  Like  a  tiger,  one  sprang  at  Paul,  the 
other  still  holding  Mr.  Saxby  down  on  the  bed. 
The  attack  was  so  sudden  that  he  staggered  and 
almost  fell,  for  he  had  barely  entered  the  room 
before  the  burglar  was  upon  him.  But  Paul 
speedily  recovered  himself.  His  football  experi- 
ences at  college,  though  purchased  dearly,  had 
taught  him  various  things,  some  of  which  now 
proved  very  valuable. 

By  a  quick  twist  of  his  body,  he  was  able  to 
break  away  from  the  burglar's  grasp,  the  next 
moment  to  strike  him  a  stinging  blow  square 
between  the  eyes,  and  then  close  upon  him  in  a 
way  only  possible  to  a  skilled  wrestler. 

In  point  of  size  and  strength  the  two  men  were 
not  unevenly  matched,  the  burglar  being,  perhaps, 


MIDNIGHT    VISITORS  25 

more  toughened  and  hardened,  but  this  was  off- 
set by  Paul's  greater  skill  and  ability  to  handle 
himself.  For  a  few  seconds  they  stood  locked  in 
each  other's  arms,  neither  speaking  a  word,  both 
determined  and  resolute.  Paul  knew  that,  if  the 
burglar  could  get  at  his  revolver,  he  would  shoot 
to  kill,  for  the  man  had  murder  in  his  face.  The 
one  was  fighting  for  life,  the  other  for  liberty. 
They  swayed,  bent,  pushed,  twisted;  faces  near 
enough  to  feel  each  other's  hot  breath;  breasts 
crushing  against  each  other  with  awful  force; 
the  advantage  one  time  with  the  burglar  and  then 
with  Paul;  each  more  determined  as  the  fight 
went  on;  now  driving  one  another  across  the 
room,  then  back  again  to  where  they  started.  At 
last  the  burglar's  foot  slipped,  which  gave  Paul 
a  chance  to  use  another  of  his  football  tricks,  and 
enabled  him  to  throw  the  thief,  who  fell  heavily 
to  the  floor,  striking  his  head  against  a  sharp 
corner  of  the  brass  fender,  over  which  they  had 
both  stumbled  in  their  fearful  struggle. 

Quick  as  lightning,  Paul  snatched  the  revolver 
from  the  burglar's  pocket,  and  held  it  over  him, 
prepared  to  shoot  if  he  attempted  to  rise. 

The  fight  between  Mr.  Saxby  and  his  assailant 
was  less  exciting  but  equally  fierce,  the  burglar's 
one  purpose  being  to  hold  the  chloroformed 
sponge  against  Mr.  Saxby's  face  long  enough  to 
compel  unconsciousness,  and  then  hasten  to  the 
help  of  his  confederate.  This  he  was  unable  to 


26        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

do,  Mr.  Saxby  beating  off  the  burglar's  hand 
again  and  again,  finally  flinging  his  arms  around 
the  ruffian's  neck,  and  holding  him  in  such  a  way 
that  he  was  powerless.  Vainly  the  fellow  tried  to 
get  away,  and,  being  a  big,  burly  man  of  great 
strength,  he  dragged  Mr.  Saxby  from  the  bed 
and  almost  to  the  door.  Seeing  that  he  could 
not  escape  in  any  other  way,  he  drew  his  revolver 
and  fired,  first  at  Mr.  Saxby,  inflicting  an  ugly 
wound,  then  at  Paul,  who  fired  in  return.  Mak- 
ing a  rush  for  the  stairs,  he  escaped  by  the  library 
window.  The  whole  house  was  soon  in  an  up- 
roar. The  noise  of  the  shooting  awoke  every 
one;  servants  were  running  here  and  there, 
shouting  and  screaming  at  the  top  of  their 
voices. 

Mrs.  Saxby  came  rushing  to  her  husband's 
room,  and,  seeing  Paul  with  a  smoking  revolver 
in  his  hand,  and  Mr.  Saxby  lying  on  the  floor 
in  a  pool  of  blood,  imagined  that  there  had  been 
a  fearful  quarrel,  which  had  ended  in  murder. 
When  Miriam  came  in,  though  startled  and  trem- 
bling, she  saw  the  man  over  whom  Paul  was  hold- 
ing the  revolver  and  immediately  understood  the 
situation.  Paul's  clothes  were  sadly  torn,  his 
face  covered  with  dirt  and  blood,  and  his  look 
set  and  fierce,  yet  to  her  he  seemed  more  hand- 
some than  a  Greek  god. 

"  Miss  Saxby,"  he  said,  but  without  changing 
his  position  or  altering  the  direction  of  the  re- 


MIDNIGHT    VISITORS  27 

volver,  "  send  at  once  for  the  nearest  doctor,  also 
for  the  police,  or  telephone  if  you  can." 

Then  to  the  servants  he  said :  "  Bring  me  a 
piece  of  rope,  clothes-line,  anything  you  can  find." 

There  was  no  need  of  the  rope  when  brought, 
for  the  wretch  was  so  stunned  by  his  fall  that 
the  police,  who  promptly  answered  the  telephone 
call,  had  to  have  a  stretcher  to  carry  him  to  the 
station. 

Doctor  Barrington,  the  family  physician  of  the 
Saxbys,  was  not  long  in  responding  to  Miss 
Saxby's  appeal.  After  such  an  examination  as 
was  possible  under  the  circumstances,  he  said 
Mr.  Saxby's  wound,  while  painful,  was  not  seri- 
ous, and  that  he  would  be  all  right  again  in  a 
few  weeks.  At  Mrs.  Saxby's  urgent  request,  he 
consented  to  remain  all  night,  but  assured  her 
there  was  no  cause  for  special  anxiety. 

As  Paul  had  given  a  general  statement  of 
matters  to  the  police,  and,  having  no  desire  to 
play  the  part  of  hero,  he  availed  himself  of  the 
first  opportunity  of  quietly  retiring  to  his  room, 
and,  strange  to  say,  was  soon  fast  asleep. 


IV. 

AN  EVENTFUL  NIGHT 


I 


T  was  most  fortunate,  so  far  as  Mr.  Saxby's 
business  interests  were  concerned,  that  Paul  Bed- 
ford had  been  "called  to  Pelham  before  the  en- 
counter with  the  burglars,  otherwise  much  confu- 
sion and  serious  financial  loss  would  have  resulted. 
For  though,  according  to  Doctor  Barrington,  the 
wound  was  not  serious,  it  kept  Mr.  Saxby  in  bed 
for  several  weeks,  and  sadly  interfered  with 
many  of  his  plans.  To  a  man  of  his  tempera- 
ment, this  was  a  grievous  affliction,  but  he  re- 
solved to  keep  up  with  affairs  at  the  office.  Paul 
Bedford  was  therefore  installed  for  the  time  as 
private  secretary,  going  to  Mr.  Saxby's  room 
every  morning  to  receive  directions  for  the  day's 
business,  and  in  the  evening  making  a  report, 
besides  bringing  from  the  office  letters  and  tele- 
grams of  special  importance.  Under  this  ar- 
rangement, it  was  decided  that  Paul  should 
remain  overnight  at  Pelham,  as  it  allowed  more 
time  for  consultation  with  Mr.  Saxby,  and  kept 

him  in  closer  touch  with  office  matters.    This  was 
28 


AN  EVENTFUL  NIGHT  29 

most  essential,  as  two  or  three  combinations,  in- 
volving vast  capital  and  requiring  delicate  man- 
agement, were  in  progress,  and  any  mishap 
would  not  only  result  in  the  loss  of  their  control, 
but  also  give  his  rivals  an  opportunity  of  costly 
revenge. 

Mr.  Saxby  had  rivals,  dangerous,  daring,  res- 
olute, and  the  fact  that  he  was  stretched  on  a 
bed,  plastered  and  bandaged  and  almost  helpless, 
made  no  appeal  to  their  sense  of  chivalry. 

Paul  Bedford  was  of  inestimable  value  at  this 
juncture  in  Mr.  Saxby's  affairs.  With  a  tact 
amazing  in  one  so  young,  he  carried  out  Mr. 
Saxby's  wishes,  and  brought  to  a  successful  issue 
some  complicated  and  serious  commissions. 
More  than  once  he  was  compelled  to  act  on  his 
own  responsibility,  Mr.  Crewe  flatly  refusing  to 
share  any  obligations. 

"I  wouldn't  do  it,  Bedford.  If  the  thing 
doesn't  go  through,  there  will  be  the  devil  to  pay, 
and  in  this  case  the  pay  will  be  pretty  steep," 
said  Mr.  Crewe  one  day  when  Wall  Street  was 
full  of  rumors  and  things  were  much  unsettled. 

"  If  Mr.  Saxby  were  here,  he  would  do  it," 
Paul  answered,  confidently. 

"  And  I  think  it  is  the  right  thing  to  do,  al- 
though there  is  a  chance  for  a  big  loss,"  was 
the  reply  of  Mr.  Crewe. 

"  Unless  something  is  done,  Mr.  Saxby's  in- 
terests are  liable  to  be  affected/'  Paul  said. 


30        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"Why  not  wire  him?" 

"  There  isn't  time.  Besides,  one  can't  explain 
things  over  the  wire." 

"  Then  do  as  you  please,  but  don't  blame  me 
if  anything  happens." 

That  evening  Paul  told  Mr.  Saxby  what  he 
had  done,  giving  him  his  reasons  for  doing  it. 

At  first  Mr.  Saxby's  eyes  had  a  gleam  of  dis- 
pleasure, as  if  he  resented  this  assumption  of 
authority,  but,  as  Paul  went  on,  a  grim  smile 
gathered  on  his  lips,  and  finally  he  laughed  under 
his  breath. 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  Mr.  Crewe  declining  such 
a  serious  responsibility,"  he  said,  "  yet  your 
course  has  my  hearty  approval." 

Well  it  might.  In  buying  up,  through  Mr. 
Saxby's  brokers,  three  or  four  large  blocks  of 
stock  which  were  thrown  on  the  market,  Paul 
stopped  what  was  intended  as  a  raid,  thus  frus- 
trating the  plans  of  a  powerful  syndicate,  who 
thought  the  Saxby  interests  were  at  their  mercy. 
Not  content  with  this,  by  a  stroke  of  daring  only 
possible  to  reckless  youth,  he  so  followed  up  his 
advantage  as  to  turn  a  threatened  loss  into  a 
substantial  gain. 

In  thinking  the  matter  over  when  Paul  had 
gone  to  dress  for  dinner,  Mr.  Saxby  could  not 
but  admire  the  strategy,  the  shrewdness,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  courage  of  the  young  secretary. 

"  Bedford  is  proving  himself  a  most  useful 


AN    EVENTFUL    NIGHT  31 

fellow,"  he  said  one  evening  to  Mrs.  Saxby,  who 
was  in  his  room  after  Paul  had  returned  from 
the  office  with  a  general  outline  of  the  day's  pro- 
ceedings. 

Mrs.  Saxby's  only  reply  was  a  slight  elevation 
of  her  eyebrows,  and  an  inquiring  look  at  her 
husband. 

"  He  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  capable  young 
men  I  know,"  Mr.  Saxby  continued,  taking  up 
the  memoranda  Paul  had  left,  and  looking  them 
over. 

"  Is  he  not  just  a  little  presuming  for  one  in 
his  position?"  Mrs.  Saxby  asked,  the  elevation 
of  her  eyebrows  contriving  somehow  to  get  into 
her  voice. 

"  I  hadn't  noticed  anything  of  that  kind,"  Mr. 
Saxby  replied,  going  on  with  his  examination 
of  the  papers. 

"  Very  likely,  but  I  have,"  and  Mrs.  Saxby 
so  placed  the  emphasis  as  to  make  it  very  ef- 
fective. 

"In  what  way?"  Mr.  Saxby  now  put  the 
papers  down  and  looked  across  the  room  at  his 
wife,  who  was  sitting  in  an  easy-chair  by  the 
window. 

"  His  air,  manner,  and  general  assumption  of 
equality,"  she  answered.  "  One  would  think  by 
his  bearing  that  he  was  a  person  of  dignity  and 
wealth.  He  talks  to  Miriam  about  music  and 
art,  everything,  in  fact,  in  the  most  familiar  way. 


32        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

I  wonder  sometimes  that  she  allows  him  to  do  so. 
Mr.  Crewe,  though  he  is  your  manager,  and  has 
been  with  you  for  a  number  of  years,  wouldn't 
dare  to  say  or  do  the  things  that  Mr.  Bedford 
will.  To  speak  plainly,  Gaston,  he  often  makes 
me  very  angry." 

It  was  indeed  most  evident  from  Mrs.  Saxby's 
tone  that  she  thoroughly  disapproved  of  Paul 
Bedford,  and  that  not  even  his  services,  valuable 
as  they  were,  compensated  for  his  presence  in 
her  household. 

And  it  cannot  be  denied  that  Mrs.  Saxby  had 
some  grounds  for  complaint,  not,  however,  so 
much  against  Paul,  as  with  the  course  that  mat- 
ters were  taking.  During  the  first  weeks  after 
Mr.  Saxby's  encounter  with  the  burglars,  when 
he  required  attention,  nursing,  and  care,  all  out- 
side engagements  of  the  family  were  cancelled, 
and  only  intimate  friends  permitted  to  call.  Nat- 
urally much  of  Mrs.  Saxby's  time  was  spent  in 
her  husband's  room,  particularly  in  the  evening 
after  Paul  had  made  his  daily  report.  She  would 
then  read  to  him  an  essay  of  Emerson,  or  a  chap- 
ter from  Ruskin,  or  a  few  pages  from  "  The  New- 
comes,"  a  story  of  which  Mr.  Saxby  was  never 
weary.  Mr.  Saxby's  taste  in  literature  was  high, 
higher  considerably  than  that  of  his  wife,  for 
she  thought  "  The  Newcomes  "  a  bore,  and  under- 
stood little  of  either  Emerson  or  Ruskin.  Still, 
having  a  clear  voice,  and  being  by  no  means  a 


AN    EVENTFUL    NIGHT  33 

bad  reader,  she  faithfully  performed  this  wifely 
duty. 

Under  these  circumstances,  Miriam  and  Paul 
were  left  to  entertain  themselves,  a  proceeding 
by  no  means  either  difficult  or  disagreeable.  Af- 
ter dinner  they  would  go  to  the  parlor,  where 
they  would  chat  for  awhile,  invariably  finding 
topics  of  mutual  interest.  Then  Miriam  would 
sit  down  at  the  piano,  not  always  waiting  to  be 
asked,  and  Paul  would  turn  over  the  music  for 
her.  Frequently  she  would  stop,  after  playing 
some  special  passage,  and  they  would  discuss  its 
merits,  and  then  again  she  would  play  through 
piece  after  piece  with  rare  delicacy  and  power. 
Occasionally  she  would  improvise,  when  Paul 
would  lean  back  in  his  chair,  where  he  could  see 
her  face  in  the  soft  light  of  the  piano-lamp,  and 
follow  with  exquisite  delight  the  chords  and  har- 
monies that  came  at  her  will.  One  moment  Paul 
would  catch  the  glory  of  a  June  sunrise,  see  the 
birds  spring  from  their  nests,  hear  them  twitter 
and  sing  in  the  morning  light,  listen  to  the  brook 
gurgle  softly  on  its  way ;  then  he  would  feel  him- 
self within  some  stately  church,  with  its  richly 
stained  windows  filled  with  mellow  light,  the  al- 
tar, with  its  mystic  coverings  of  purple  and  gold, 
and  the  congregation  kneeling  in  adoring  silence. 
Then  again  he  would  hear  the  winds  sweep  madly 
through  the  trees,  the  cries  of  the  birds  flying 
from  the  coming  storm,  and  in  another  instant 


34        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

the  mother's  soft  lullaby,  as  she  crooned  her  little 
one  to  sleep.  More  than  once  Paul  imagined 
that  he  could  almost  see  the  soul  of  the  musician 
take  on  visible  form,  and  pass  away  as  a  spirit- 
cloud  into  the  realm  of  shadow  and  mystery. 

One  evening,  after  playing  a  sonata  of  Chopin, 
Miriam  went  to  the  window  and  stood  there  for 
a  few  minutes,  enjoying  the  strange  beauty  of 
the  night.  There  was  no  reason  for  Paul  to  rise 
from  his  comfortable  chair  and  go  to  that  win- 
dow; nevertheless  he  did  so.  And  perhaps  it 
was  the  influence  of  Chopin's  weird,  mystic  music, 
or  something  else,  but,  when  he  went  to  the  win- 
dow, he  stood  not  far  from  where  Miss  Saxby 
was  standing.  For  some  time  neither  spoke,  both 
seemingly  absorbed  in  watching  the  moon  sink 
behind  a  mass  of  clouds,  then  break  through  them 
and  come  out  brighter  even  than  before.  Miss 
Saxby,  who  had  bent  forward,  resting  her  hand 
lightly  on  the  window,  now  stepped  back,  and, 
in  doing  so,  grazed  Paul's  cheek  with  her  hair; 
for  he  also  had  stooped  to  have  a  better  look  at 
the  moon  battling  with  the  clouds. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  whispered,  softly. 

Paul  replied  by  gently  touching  her  hand,  then 
taking  it  in  his,  where  she  allowed  it  to  remain. 

Once  more  a  delicious,  yet  almost  painful, 
silence  fell  upon  them,  Miriam  finally  moving 
as  though  she  would  leave  the  window.  This 
brought  them  face  to  face,  and  they  looked  at 


AN    EVENTFUL    NIGHT'  35 

each  other,  —  that  long,  eager,  heart-searching 
look,  possible  only  once  in  the  life  of  either  man 
or  woman,  —  upon  which  Paul  bent  down,  and, 
in  a  voice  thrilling  with  ecstasy,  said :  "  Miriam !  " 

"  Paul !  "  she  answered,  and  the  next  moment 
their  lips  met,  each  giving  to  the  other  the  rap- 
ture of  a  new-born  love. 

There  was  little  sleep  for  Paul  Bedford  that 
night.  On  going  to  his  room,  he  sternly  up- 
braided himself  for  taking  advantage  of  Mr. 
Saxby's  hospitality,  and,  in  the  spirit  of  a  proud 
Virginian,  gave  his  accusing  conscience  unstinted 
freedom.  He  felt  that  he  had  transgressed  be- 
yond all  hope  of  pardon,  and  that  his  only  course, 
as  an  honorable  man,  was  to  immediately  leave 
Mr.  Saxby's  service. 

It  is  true  he  had  known  for  some  time  that 
Miriam  Saxby  had  realized  his  supreme  ideal  of 
womanhood,  but  this  secret  he  had  resolved  to 
hold  as  a  sacred  possession,  not  sharing  it  with 
any  one,  least  of  all  with  the  one  whom  it  most 
concerned. 

And  now,  in  a  weak,  unguarded  moment,  he 
had  betrayed  himself,  and  worse,  infinitely  worse, 
had  taken  a  cowardly  advantage  of  Miriam. 

Then  he  thought  of  how  he  had  struggled 
against  this  love  which  he  knew  was  hopeless, 
calling  upon  his  pride,  his  honor,  his  sense  of 
loyalty,  everything  that  was  worthy  in  him,  that 
he  might  overcome.  And  after  all  he  had  failed, 


36        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

wretchedly,  miserably  failed.  Yes,  he  would, 
on  the  morrow,  resign  from  Mr.  Saxby's  service, 
and  leave  the  city,  the  country  perhaps,  go  any- 
where or  do  anything  to  save  himself  from  fur- 
ther dishonor.  All  of  the  blame  for  the  scene 
in  the  parlor  he  took  upon  himself.  He  knew 
that  Miriam  was  passionately  fond  of  music, 
keenly  susceptible  to  certain  impressions,  ex- 
quisitely sensitive,  and,  under  the  mad  stress  of 
his  intense  feeling,  would  be  compelled  to  yield 
to  his  dominating  influence. 

So  he  tossed  and  tumbled  about,  spending  a 
wretched,  miserable  night. 

As  a  usual  thing,  Paul  breakfasted  alone,  hav- 
ing to  leave  on  an  early  train,  but,  on  the  morn- 
ing following  this  eventful  night,  Miriam  was 
in  the  breakfast-room  when  he  went  down.  This 
was  a  meeting  he  had  dreaded,  thinking  she  would 
be  indignant  at  his  presumption,  and  in  some 
way  show  how  she  regarded  his  unmanly  course 
in  taking  advantage  of  her  weakness. 

But,  to  his  surprise,  though  she  flushed  a  little 
when  he  entered  the  room,  it  was  not  a  guilty, 
indignant  flush,  but  an  expression  rather  of  glad- 
ness at  his  coming,  and  was  accompanied  by  a 
look,  the  meaning  of  which  he  could  not  mistake. 

When  the  servants  were  safely  out  of  hearing, 
she  softly  murmured :  "  Good  morning,  Paul," 
to  which  he  gratefully  responded : 

"  Good  morning,  Miriam." 


AN    EVENTFUL    NIGHT  37 

Instantly  his  midnight  fears  and  scruples 
passed  away  as  light  clouds  before  a  strong  wind. 
His  sky  was  now  one  deep,  eternal  blue.  The 
kiss  of  the  night  before  meant  a  holy  betrothal. 
Instead  of  fleeing  coward-like,  he  would  remain. 
To  desert  one  whose  love  was  so  manifest  would 
be  the  act  of  a  craven.  Come  what  would,  he  re- 
solved to  abide  the  result. 

She  waited  while  he  went  to  her  father's  room 
with  some  papers  that  required  Mr.  Saxby's  sig- 
nature; she  went  with  him  to  the  library,  where 
other  papers  for  the  office  had  to  be  arranged; 
then,  when  he  was  ready  to  start,  she  lifted  up 
her  face  to  his  for  a  parting  kiss,  and,  as  the 
carriage  turned  the  bend  of  the  road,  he  saw 
her  standing  at  the  window  where  they  had  both 
stood  the  night  before. 


V. 

MRS.  SAXBY'S  INTUITION 


H 


.OW  easily  the  fates,  concerning  whose 
movements  most  of  us  are  seriously  troubled  at 
times,  could  have  prevented  Paul  Bedford  from 
ever  going  to  Pelham!  In  that  case,  he  would 
not  have  met  Miriam  Saxby,  at  any  rate  not 
under  such  circumstances  as  would  entitle  him 
to  any  special  place  in  her  heart.  As  a  further 
result,  she  would  probably  have  married  Clarence 
Fillmore,  a  young  man  of  good  family,  consider- 
able wealth,  of  more  than  average  appearance, 
and  by  no  means  deficient  in  such  abilities  as 
are  proper  to  one  of  his  class. 

Clarence  was  a  healthy,  wholesome  fellow,  fond 
of  outdoor  sports;  could  sail  a  boat  as  well  as 
a  Cape  Cod  fisherman;  shoot  better  than  any 
other  man  in  the  Pelham  Club;  ride  with  the 
daring  of  a  jockey,  or  drive  with  the  skill  of  a 
practised  whip;  was  free  with  his  money,  and 
ready  for  anything  that  came  along. 

For  some  months  he  had  been  a  frequent  vis- 
38 


MRS.    SAXBY'S    INTUITION  39 

itor  at  the  Saxby  home;  sometimes  calling  in 
the  morning,  when  there  was  a  yacht  race  or 
a  coaching  party,  to  which  he  would  invite  Mir- 
iam; or  in  the  afternoon  when  there  was  to  be 
a  match  game  on  the  golf  links,  or  a  tennis  tour- 
nament at  the  club ;  then  again  in  the  evening 
for  some  special  function  in  Pelham  or  the  re- 
gions beyond.  Most  of  those  who  looked  on 
nodded  approvingly.  Such  a  proceeding  seemed 
eminently  fitting.  Clarence  was  rich,  so  was 
Miriam.  And  money  usually  marries  money.  So 
the  good  people  of  Pelham  —  those  who  were  on 
visiting  terms  with  the  Saxbys  —  expected  that 
in  due  time  would  come  the  announcement  of  the 
engagement  of  Clarence  and  Miriam,  and  after- 
ward their  wedding,  which,  of  course,  would  be 
an  event  of  social  magnitude.  And,  if  this  pro- 
gramme had  been  carried  out,  it  would  probably 
have  resulted  in  as  much  happiness  as  ordinary 
mortals  are  justified  in  expecting. 

"  What  has  become  of  Clarence  Fillmore  ?  I 
haven't  heard  anything  of  him  for  some  time. 
Every  day  after  the  visit  of  those  infernal  bur- 
glars I  got  a  message  or  an  inquiry  from  him. 
Has  he  gone  South  ?  " 

As  Mr.  Saxby  spoke,  he  closed  the  book  he 
had  been  looking  at  but  not  reading,  and  turned 
to  Mrs.  Saxby,  who  had  just  finished  a  batch  of 
letters,  and  was  about  to  shut  her  desk. 

"  He  called  last  week,  the  day  before  you  came 


40        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

down-stairs,  I  believe,"  Mrs.  Saxby  replied,  in 
a  tone  of  assumed  indifference. 

"  That  is  at  least  ten  days  ago,"  Mr.  Saxby 
said,  in  a  tone  in  which  there  was  very  manifest 
surprise.  "  Did  he  say  anything  of  going  South 
for  the  winter  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  merely  called  to  inquire  about  you, 
and  stayed  only  a  few  minutes." 

"  You  mean  that  Clarence  Fillmore  made  a 
formal  call  ten  days  ago,  and  has  not  been  here 
since  ?  "  Mr.  Saxby's  face  now  showed  both  sur- 
prise and  resentment. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean,"  Mrs.  Saxby  re- 
plied, each  word  given  with  judicious  delibera- 
tion. 

Mrs.  Saxby  rarely  lost  her  temper,  however 
great  the  provocation,  but  she  had  a  singular  gift 
of  making  other  people  lose  theirs. 

"  Did  he  see  Miriam  when  he  called  ?  "  Mr. 
Saxby  had  known  for  some  months  how  matters 
were  shaping,  and,  as  Clarence  was  thoroughly 
eligible  in  every  way,  saw  no  reason  to  inter- 
fere. 

"  Yes ;    he  saw  Miriam." 

"  Mary,  there  is  something  back  of  all  this 
which  I  do  not  understand.  Clarence  Fillmore 
has  some  good  cause  for  remaining  away.  He  is 
not  remarkably  brilliant,  I  admit,  neither  is  he 
one  of  your  thin-skinned,  morbidly  sensitive  fel- 
lows, who  are  so  easily  offended.  I  thought 


MRS.    SAXBY'S    INTUITION          41 

everything  was  plain  sailing  with  him  and 
Miriam." 

"  So  it  was  until  recently." 

"  Has  there  been  a  quarrel  or  misunderstand- 
ing?" 

"  Neither,  so  far  as  I  can  see." 

"  Then  what  is  the  trouble  ?  " 

"Paul  Bedford." 

"  Paul  Bedford !    What  has  he  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Saxby's  voice,  though  in  its  usual  con- 
versational register,  had  a  clear,  metallic  ring, 
combined  with  a  measure  of  intensity. 

"  Everything,"  and,  saying  this,  Mrs.  Saxby 
shut  her  desk,  and,  taking  up  a  magazine,  began 
turning  over  the  pages,  as  though  the  last  word 
had  been  spoken. 

"  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Saxby,  in  the  same  tone  as 
before,  "  you  have  said  either  too  much  or  too 
little.  Remember  I  have  been  shut  up  in  my 
room  for  a  month  past ;  only  recently  have  I  been 
permitted  by  Doctor  Barrington  to  come  down- 
stairs for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  afternoon.  I 
know  nothing,  therefore,  of  what  you  intimate, 
and  your  hints  are  so  vague  that  I  must  insist 
on  something  more  definite.  You  say  that  Paul 
Bedford  is  the  cause  of  whatever  trouble  exists 
between  Miriam  and  Clarence.  Kindly  tell  me 
just  what  you  mean." 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  Gaston,'in  so  many  words, 
for  a  woman,  and  particularly  a  mother,  has 


42        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

intuitions,  instincts,  if  you  will,  for  which  there 
is  no  definite  language.  I  merely  know  that 
since  Mr.  Bedford  came  to  this  house  Miriam 
has  not  been  the  same  girl  as  before.  She 
spends  every  evening  in  the  parlor  with  him,  play- 
ing and  singing,  which,  I  presume,  is  all  right 
enough  if  it  would  stop  there.  But  she  goes  down 
every  morning  to  the  breakfast-room,  and  then 
waits  to  see  him  leave  for  the  city.  During  the 
day  she  is  eager  and  impatient,  and  several  times 
has  made  excuses  for  meeting  the  train  on  which 
he  generally  arrives  from  New  York.  I  cannot 
tell,  though  I  am  almost  certain,  whether  she 
has  flowers  sent  to  his  room,  but  every  day  fresh 
flowers  are  on  his  dressing-table." 

"  But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  Clarence 
Fillmore  ? "  Mr.  Saxby  asked,  barely  allowing 
his  wife  to  finish  her  sentence. 

"  Simply  that  she  ignores  Clarence  in  every 
possible  way.  She  doesn't  go  out  with  him, 
though  he  has  asked  her  again  and  again.  He 
wanted  to  take  her  over  to  the  golf  links  the 
other  day,  but  she  sent  an  excuse.  He  wrote, 
inviting  her  to  go  with  him  to  one  of  the  college 
football  games,  and  she  declined.  He  called  here 
two  or  three  times  in  the  evening,  but  she  was 
so  taken  up  with .  music  and  Mr.  Bedford  that 
he  stayed  only  a  few  minutes." 

"  Has  Clarence  said  anything  to  you  ?  " 

"  Not  by  way  of  complaint,  but,  when  he  was 


MRS.    SAXBY'S    INTUITION          43 

going  the  other  day,  he  left  his  regards  for  you, 
and  said  he  would  drop  in  some  day  at  the  office 
when  he  knew  you  were  able  to  go  back  to  the 
city." 

"  And  this  you  took  to  mean  — 

"  That  he  did  not  intend  to  call  here  again, 
at  least  under  present  conditions." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  Send  Mr.  Bedford  off  to  South  America, 
China,  to  Bagdad,  if  you  have  an  office  there. 
To  dismiss  him  from  your  service  abruptly  would 
excite  remark,  particularly  as  it  is  known  that 
he  had  some  share  in  your  fight  with  the  bur- 
glars." 

"  Damn  the  burglars !  "  Mr.  Saxby  said  under 
his  breath,  then  aloud :  "  but  suppose  he  won't 
go,  what  then  ?  " 

"  But  he  will  go.  He  is  young,  ambitious, 
anxious  to  make  his  way  in  the  world.  Promise 
him  a  large  increase  in  salary.  Suggest  that, 
by  going  abroad,  he  will  not  only  improve  his  own 
chances  of  getting  on,  but  will  also  be  of  material 
use  to  you.  In  this  way  you  appeal  to  both  his 
vanity  and  self-interest.  He  is  sure  to  go." 

"  And  what  about  Miriam  ?  " 

"  Once  Paul  Bedford  is  gone,  I  can  easily  take 
.care  of  Miriam." 

"How?" 

"  By  simply  arranging  matters  so  that  they 
will  go  back  to  where  they  were  before  you  got 


44        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

hurt.  Miriam  is  not  difficult  to  manage,  and, 
if  Bedford  is  out  of  the  way,  things  will  soon 
adjust  themselves." 

"  I  can't  imagine  that  Miriam  is  so  foolish  as 
to  think  seriously  of  Bedford." 

"It  is  only  a  passing  fancy.  You  know  her 
passion  for  music,  and  how  delighted  she  is 
when  at  the  opera  or  a  concert.  Mr.  Bedford 
has  doubtless  flattered  her,  and  said  complimen- 
tary things  about  her  playing  and  singing;  the 
rest  you  can  easily  imagine." 

They  talked- on  for  some  time  in  much  the  same 
strain,  and,  as  Mrs.  Saxby  saw  that  Paul  Bed- 
ford's hours  at  Pelham  were  numbered,  and  his 
days  in  the  country  would  probably  be  few,  she 
became  more  gracious  in  her  manner  than  for 
some  weeks  past. 

Here  were  father  and  mother  arranging  for  the 
disposal  of  their  daughter,  as  though  she  were  a 
bale  of  cotton  or  a  car-load  of  wheat,  taking  it 
for  granted  that  she  had  neither  feelings  nor 
wishes  of  her  own.  Without  compunction  they 
would  tramp  ruthlessly  across  the  threshold  of 
that  daughter's  heart,  rend  in  twain  the  veil 
which  guarded  the  sacred  shrine,  invade  the  holy 
of  holies  in  her  soul,  and  compel  her  outraged 
womanhood  to  obey  their  will.  All  this,  too, 
under  the  guise  of  prudence,  and  with  the  sole 
thought  of  their  daughter's  welfare! 


VI. 

A  HONGKONG  APPOINTMENT 


N: 


EXT  morning,  when  giving  Paul  Bedford 
his  orders  for  the  day,  Mr.  Saxby  was  perhaps 
more  courteous  than  usual,  but  it  was  a  formal, 
precise  courtesy,  void  of  either  cordiality  or  pleas- 
antness. 

"  Mr.  Walters,  I  understand,  has  returned  to 
the  office,"  he  said,  as  Paul  was  leaving  the  room. 

"  Yes,  sir ;    he  came  back  on  Monday." 

"  Is  he  all  right  again  ?  " 

"  I  think  so ;    he  seems  so,  at  any  rate." 

"  Tell  him  —  but  I  won't  detain  you ;  it  is 
almost  train  time,"  and  with  a  slight  wave  of 
his  hand,  which  Paul  understood,  Mr.  Saxby 
resumed  the  reading  of  his  letter. 

Paul  was  not  in  the  best  of  spirits  that  morn- 
ing as  he  went  to  the  city.  Miriam  had  not 
come  down  to  the  breakfast-room;  the  meal 
therefore  was  a  dreary  affair,  Paul  spending 
most  of  his  time  in  looking  at  the  door  through 
which  she  usually  entered,  or  at  the  clock,  whose 

hands  moved  so  swiftly  toward  the  hour  when 

45 


46        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

he  must  leave.  He  sadly  missed  her  "  Good 
morning,  Paul,"  whispered  softly,  accompanied 
by  a  dainty  little  blush  and  a  look  which  said 
so  much,  but  left  unsaid  so  much  more.  And 
he  missed  her  presence  at  the  table,  where  her 
touch  of  his  coffee-cup,  as  she  filled  it  from  the 
urn,  made  it  to  him  a  sacred  thing,  and  the 
coffee  a  drink  worthy  of  the  gods.  Were  ever 
movements  so  graceful  as  hers!  When  she  said 
"  one  lump  or  two?  "  he  said  "  two,"  just  to  see 
how  daintily  she  handled  the  sugar-tongs.  And, 
though  he  rarefy  took  cream  in  his  coffee,  when 
she  asked  him,  he  said  "  yes,"  because  of  the 
pleasure  it  gave  him  to  see  her  use  the  pitcher. 

The  servants,  of  course,  anticipated  most  of  his 
wants,  but  Miriam's  mention  of  a  delicacy,  or 
a  suggestion  that  he  be  helped  to  it,  instantly 
made  it  desirable  to  his  eyes. 

With  a  young  man's  daring,  he  would  picture 
Miriam  at  the  head  of  his  table,  and  there  would 
come  upon  him  an  almost  uncontrollable  desire 
to  bundle  the  servants  out  of  the  room  that  he 
might  gather  her  lovingly  in  his  arms.  More 
than  all,  he  missed  the  blissful  moments  in  the 
library,  moments  so  rich  in  rapture  that  the  mem- 
ory of  them  filled  the  whole  day  with  joy. 

No  wonder,  therefore,  that  his  journey  to  the 
city  was  dull  and  spiritless  compared  with  that 
of  other  mornings. 

To  add  to  his  discomfort,  he  thought  of  Mr. 


A   HONGKONG   APPOINTMENT        47 

Saxby's  frigid  courtesy,  dismissing  him  the  mo- 
ment office  matters  were  arranged.  He  had 
intended  speaking  to  Mr.  Saxby  that  morning 
about  Miriam,  though  she  had  strongly  urged  him 
not  to  do  so,  but  to  wait  until  a  better  opportunity 
presented  itself. 

The  inquiry  concerning  Walters  also  troubled 
him,  for,  while  he  knew  that  the  time  was  hasten- 
ing when  his  work  as  secretary  would  cease, 
he  had  hoped  to  continue  until  Mr.  Saxby  had 
fully  recovered. 

This  meant,  according  to  Doctor  Barrington, 
at  least  three  or  four  weeks  longer,  so  the  pos- 
sibility of  visiting  at  Pelham  and  seeing  Miriam 
every  day  was  one  of  inexpressible  delight. 

Fortunately  he  had  a  busy  day,  Mr.  Saxby's 
commissions  occupying  almost  every  minute, 
and,  when  a  young  man's  thoughts  are  fully 
taken  up  with  business,  he  hasn't  much  chance 
to  worry  over  love-affairs. 

Occasionally  Mr.  Crewe  went  out  to  Pelham 
with  Paul,  but  only  when  there  were  matters  of 
special  moment,  concerning  which  Mr.  Saxby 
desired  his  opinion.  Paul  therefore  knew  that 
something  of  importance  had  come  up  during 
the  day  when  Mr.  Crewe  said  he  was  going  with 
him  on  the  afternoon  train.  Mr.  Crewe  did  not 
mention  what  the  special  business  was,  neither 
did  Paul  ask  him,  both  knowing  that  Mr.  Saxby 
preferred  no  discussion  of  his  office  affairs. 


48        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

On  going  down  to  dinner,  Paul  was  sorely 
disappointed  in  not  seeing  Miriam,  for  of  late 
they  had  frequently  been  fortunate  enough  to 
meet  in  the  parlor  before  the  others  came  in. 
He  thought  something  had  detained  her,  and  that 
she  would  come  in  later,  until  he  heard  Mrs. 
Saxby  say,  in  response  to  a  polite  inquiry  of  Mr. 
Crewe : 

"  Miss  Saxby  is  quite  well.  She  has  gone  to 
Stamford  for  a  few  days." 

Poor  Paul !  If  the  breakfast  had  been  such  a 
dull  affair,  the"  dinner  was  much  more  so.  He 
tried  to  engage  Mrs.  Saxby  in  some  form  of 
conversation,  but  her  replies  were  so  definitely 
limited  that  he  was  forced  to  give  up  the  attempt. 
Once  or  twice  he  suggested  something  which 
might  have  led  to  a  general  table  talk,  but  Mr. 
Saxby  listened  politely,  and  made  no  response, 
an  example  followed  carefully  by  Mr.  Crewe. 

What  a  difference  Miriam's  absence  made! 
Paul  glanced  wistfully  at  the  vacant  chair,  and 
pictured  her  bright,  eager  face,  her  dark,  shining 
eyes,  the  quick  turn  of  her  shapely  head,  the  smile 
which  was  wont  to  accompany  her  apt  reply,  and 
he  could  almost  hear  her  rich,  vibrant  voice,  as 
she  narrated  some  little  incident  of  the  day. 

Mrs.  Saxby  had  given  him  to  understand  by 
her  general  bearing  that  she  regarded  him  simply 
as  her  husband's  clerk,  and  therefore  a  servant 
of  the  household,  just  as  Cooney  the  coachman, 


A    HONGKONG    APPOINTMENT       49 

or  Mines  the  butler,  else  he  would  have  spoken 
of  Miriam,  asking  possibly  when  she  might  be 
expected  home.  But  he  knew  that  such  an  in- 
quiry would  be  deemed  an  impertinence.  So 
Paul  refrained  from  any  mention  of  her  name, 
and  allowed  the  dinner  to  drone  through  as  best 
it  could. 

What  the  dinner  lacked  by  way  of  excitement, 
the  conversation  in  the  library  supplied,  for 
hardly  had  Paul  finished  his  coffee  before  Mr. 
Saxby  turned  to  him  and  said : 

"  Mr.  Bedford,  my  office  manager  in  Hong- 
kong has  resigned,  and,  as  there  are  some  im- 
portant concessions  left  unsettled,  I  wish  you  to 
take  charge  at  once.  Passage  has  been  secured 
on  Saturday's  steamer.  My  agent  at  London  will 
have  everything  ready  for  you.  Our  Hongkong 
business,  as  you  already  know,  relates  largely  to 
the  European  markets,  so  you  may  have  to  remain 
in  London  for  a  week  or  ten  days.  That,  of 
course,  you  can  decide  after  seeing  how  things 
are  in  the  London  office.  I  need  hardly  say  that 
this  is  an  unusual  opportunity  for  so  young  a 
man,  but  I  am  not  unmindful  of  the  service  you 
have  rendered  me.  I  have  talked  this  matter 
over  with  Mr.  Crewe,  who,  I  am  glad  to  say, 
agrees  in  my  selection  of  you  for  this  responsible 
position.  Of  course  there  will  be  a  substantial 
increase  in  your  salary,  of  which  Mr.  Crewe  will 
speak  to-morrow  at  the  office.  Mr.  Walters  is 


50        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

coming  out  in  the  morning  to  resume  his  position, 
so  you  are  now  free  to  make  such  preparations 
as  are  necessary." 

"To  Hongkong?"  Paul  questioned,  almost 
staggered  at  the  suggestion. 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Saxby  answered,  taking  a  cigar 
from  the  box  on  the  library-table,  but  not  before 
offering  one  to  Mr.  Crewe. 

"And  on  Saturday?"  Paul  said,  hesitatingly. 

"  Which  gives  you  two  days  to  get  ready," 
Mr.  Saxby  replied,  as  he  carefully  fitted  the  end 
of  his  cigar  into  the  cutter.  "  My  first  plan  was 
to  have  you  start  to-morrow,  but  Saturday's  boat 
is  faster,  and  you  will  be  more  comfortable." 

"  I  had  no  idea  of  this,"  Paul  said,  trying  to 
smile,  but  the  trial  was  not  a  marked  success. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  had,  neither  had  I  until 
Mr.  Crewe  gave  me  the  cable  message  from  Lon- 
don soon  after  you  left  this  morning,"  and,  as 
Mr.  Saxby  spoke,  he  lighted  his  cigar,  motion- 
ing Mr.  Crewe  to  do  the  same. 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  — "  Paul  was 
beginning,  when  Mr.  Saxby  broke  in,  speaking 
with  more  energy  than  he  generally  did : 

"  Remember,  Mr.  Bedford,  that  I  am  entrust- 
ing you  with  a  most  serious  responsibility.  Re- 
member also  that,  in  accepting  this  position,  you 
not  only  advance  your  own  interests,  but  relieve 
me  from  embarrassments  which  cause  me  some 
anxiety." 


A    HONGKONG    APPOINTMENT       51 

Every  word  that  Mr.  Saxby  said  was  true, 
yet  anything  more  misleading  could  hardly  be 
imagined. 

He  was  embarrassed,  but  not  over  matters  in 
Hongkong,  and  he  was  anxious,  but  not  with 
regard  to  Chinese  concessions! 

These  things  Paul  did  not  know,  so  he  an- 
swered : 

"  If  you  put  it  in  that  way,  I  have  no  choice 
in  the  matter.  Of  course  I  will  go,  and  gladly, 
if  by  so  doing  I  can  serve  your  interests." 

This  time  Paul  smiled,  bravely  too,  and  his 
voice  was  tolerably  steady.  Somehow  he  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  in  rendering  this  special 
service  to  Mr.  Saxby  he  was  also  serving  Miriam, 
and  had  the  request  called  for  his  immediate  de- 
parture to  the  Siberian  mines,  he  would  have 
given  the  same  reply. 

"  Then  let  me  suggest  that  you  return  to  the 
city  to-night  with  Mr.  Crewe.  By  this  plan  you 
can  have  all  of  to-morrow  forenoon  at  the  office. 
If  anything  occurs  of  sufficient  importance,  I 
will  let  you  know  early  on  Friday,  so  that,  if 
necessary,  you  can  come  out  here  later  in  the 
day.  Mr.  Crewe  will  attend  to  all  matters  of 
finance,  and  you  may  draw  on  him  for  such 
amounts  as  you  require." 

As  the  carriage  had  been  ordered  for  the 
10.20  train,  Paul  was  excused  that  he  might 
pack  his  bag  and  prepare  to  leave  the  Saxby 


52        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

home.  The  packing-  was  a  short  affair,  for  he 
jammed  things  into  his  bag  without  much  regard 
to  the  result,  so  long  as  they  got  in.  Then  he 
sat  down  and  took  a  farewell  survey  of  the  room 
in  which  he  had  spent  so  many  blissful  hours. 
How  well  he  remembered  that  eventful  night 
when,  with  Miriam's  kiss  upon  his  lips,  and  her 
sweet  "  Good  night,  Paul,"  thrilling  in  his  heart,' 
he  had  drawn  his  chair  to  the  window,  and  for 
hours  looked  out  into  the  darkness  and  silence. 

There  came  to  him  the  memory  of  a  yet 
sweeter  hour,  when,  in  answer  to  the  trembling 
question,  she  said :  "  Yes,  Paul,  I  love  you, 
and  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart."  Then  she 
smiled,  and  in  that  smile  he  had  a  glimpse  of 
the  mysterious  radiance  which  at  times  fills  a 
woman's  soul. 

Not  so  ecstatic  nor  rapturous,  but  none  the 
less  grateful,  was  the  memory  of  another  time 
when  she  said,  cheeringly: 

"  Have  no  fears,  Paul.  Nothing  can  ever 
affect  my  love  for  you.  I  will  wait  for  you  no 
matter  how  long  it  may  be." 

And  now  he  was  ordered  off  to  Hongkong, 
without  so  much  as  a  chance  to  bid  her  good- 
bye! 

Leaving  his  bag  in  the  room,  he  crept  softly 
down-stairs  and  quietly  entered  the  parlor.  It 
was,  as  he  expected,  empty  and  dimly  lighted. 
The  piano  was  open  just  as  Miriam  had  left  it 


A    HONGKONG   APPOINTMENT       53 

the  night  before,  and,  going  over  to  it,  he  stooped 
down  and  kissed  the  keys  her  fingers  so  often  had 
touched.  Then  he  moved  his  hand  gently  along 
the  keyboard,  as  if  to  feel  in  some  way  the  hand 
of  Miriam.  After  this,  he  went  to  the  window, 
where  she  had  stood  on  that  night  which  meant 
for  him  the  beginning  of  a  new  life,  and,  rever- 
ently kneeling  as  before  a  holy  shrine,  renewed 
his  covenant  with  her,  and  took  upon  himself  obli- 
gations as  binding  as  death. 

This,  of  course,  was  all  very  foolish.  And 
there  are  those  who  would  have  laughed  out- 
right had  they  witnessed  this  strange  perform- 
ance. But  with  Paul  it  was  not  in  the  least  fool- 
ish. Neither  was  it  a  performance.  Indeed,  he 
was  never  more  serious  in  his  life.  The  poor 
fellow's  heart  was  so  crowded  with  sweet  memo- 
ries of  Miriam  that  now,  when  he  was  going 
away,  with  the  possibility  of  not  returning  for 
years,  he  must  say  good-bye  to  something  with 
which  she  was  associated.  What,  then,  better 
than  the  piano  over  which  they  had  spent  mo- 
ments of  rare  delight,  or  the  spot  near  the 
window  where  they  had  first  kissed  each  other? 

The  next  day  he  was  busy  with  the  prepara- 
tions for  his  journey,  the  writing  of  letters,  and 
in  learning  something  of  his  new  duties.  Nat- 
urally he  received  all  sorts  of  congratulations 
and  good  wishes.  His  fellow  clerks  considered 
him  the  luckiest  fellow  in  the  world.  They  gath- 


54        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

ered  about  him  in  the  office,  saying  the  pleasantest 
things  imaginable;  while  sorry  to  have  him  go 
away,  they  thought  such  a  promotion  was  a  rare 
streak  of  good  fortune.  That  same  evening  his 
more  particular  cronies  gave  him  a  farewell  din- 
ner, where  various  speeches  were  made,  all  sorts 
of  toasts  proposed,  every  possible  suggestion  of- 
fered, and  puns,  squibs,  and  rattle-pate  nonsense 
worked  off  in  quantity.  Paul  had  his  share  of  the 
fun,  and  laughed  with  the  others,  for  they  were 
honest,  good  fellows,  who  sincerely  rejoiced  in  his 
prosperity,  buf  there  were  times  when,  through 
the  thick  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke,  he  could  see 
Miriam's  face,  and  over  the  din  of  laughter  and 
song  he  could  hear  her  voice.  It  was  late  when 
the  little  party  broke  up,  finishing  their  solemni- 
ties with  that  exquisite  and  pathetic  ballad,  "  For 
he's  a  jolly  good  fellow,  which  nobody  can  deny." 
On  going  to  the  office  next  morning,  Paul 
found  a  letter  postmarked  "  Stamford,"  and  ad- 
dressed in  evidently  a  lady's  handwriting.  He 
wondered  if  it  was  from  Miriam,  though  he  had 
not  dared  to  hope  for  such  a  thing.  As  soon  as 
he  was  by  himself  in  the  private  office,  he  eagerly 
opened  the  precious  epistle.  To  his  great  joy, 
it  was  from  Miriam. 

"  MY  DEAR  PAUL  :  —  You  were,  I  know,  very 
much  disappointed  when  you  did  not  see  me  yes- 
terday morning,  and  then  to  learn  last  evening 


A    HONGKONG   APPOINTMENT       55 

that  I  had  gone  away  without  leaving  any  mes- 
sage for  you.  But  mamma  was  most  anxious 
about  her  sister,  who  lives  in  Stamford,  and 
desired  me  to  take  the  early  train  from  Pelham. 
This  will  explain  my  absence  from  the  break- 
fast-table, where  I  officiate,  as  you  say,  with  such 
grace  and  charm !  '  Officiate,'  Paul,  is  not  the 
best  word  in  this  case,  but  I  quote  from  you, 
and  disclaim  all  responsibility. 

"  My  Stamford  aunt  enjoys  poor  health,  and 
simply  delights  in  drugs,  fads,  health  foods,  and 
revels  gloriously  in  the  daily  visits  of  her  physi- 
cian, a  dear,  nice  old  gentleman,  who  settled  here 
soon  after  Noah  concluded  to  leave  the  ark.  My 
aunt  has  no  children,  which  is  a  pity,  as  a  few 
lively  cousins  might  cheer  this  big,  gloomy  house, 
besides  giving  her  something  to  think  of  except 
thermometers  and  foodometers,  and  every  other 
kind  of  ometer.  It  was  dreadfully  dull  here  last 
evening,  my  aunt's  nerves  not  permitting  of  my 
touching  the  piano;  my  aunt's  trained  nurse 
not  allowing  me  to  remain  with  her  illustrious 
patient  after  eight  o'clock;  and  my  aunt's  hus- 
band going  out  to  his  club  soon  after  dinner.  But 
I  snuggled  down  in  a  big  chair  in  my  room,  and 
thought  of  you !  And  how  strange  that  I  should 
do  so! 

"  I  expect  to  return  home  on  Monday,  and, 
if  you  are  very,  very  good,  I  may  allow  you  to 
sit  in  the  far  corner  of  the  music-room  while  I 


56         THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

indulge  in  some  digitological  harmonies.  If,  by 
any  manner  of  means,  you  could  find  time  to 
write  me  between  now  and  Monday,  I,  on  my 
part,  will  find  time  to  read  your  letter  from  be- 
ginning to  end.  '  Good  night,  Paul ! ' 
"  Ever  your  own, 

"  MIRIAM. 
"  Address,  '  The  Pines.'  " 

Rather  a  singular  love-letter,  according  to  the 
accepted  standard  of  such  communications.  But, 
from  the  eagerness  with  which  Paul  read  it  and 
re-read  it,  smiling  here  and  there  as  he  read,  and 
the  rich,  glad  light  that  came  into  his  face,  not 
only  while  he  was  reading,  but  every  time  he 
thought  of  it,  apparently  it  answered  all  the  pur- 
pose of  a  love-letter. 

If  any  one  had  seen  him  put  it  away,  giving  it 
a  place  in  the  same  pocket  where  he  carried  a  little 
picture  of  his  dead  mother,  he  would  have  under- 
stood the  valuation  Paul  put  upon  this  letter  of 
Miriam. 

Just  what  he  said  by  way  of  reply  is  not  our 
affair.  It  may  be  assumed,  however,  that  a  young 
man  who  will  kiss  piano  keys  because  a  certain 
young  lady's  fingers  have  touched  them,  and 
kneel  on  a  carpet  because  the  same  young  lady's 
feet  had  stood  on  that  special  square,  will  not  fail 
when  he  has  opportunity  to  write  to  that  par- 
ticular young  lady.  One  thing  we  know  —  he 


A    HONGKONG   APPOINTMENT       57 

wrote  a  long  letter,  for  he  dashed  off  sheet  after 
sheet,  and  even  double  postage  barely  covered 
the  weight  of  the  envelope  when  it  was  sealed 
and  ready  for  the  mail. 

As  Paul  was  to  sail  on  Saturday  at  noon,  the 
hour  when  every  one  was  busy  in  Mr.  Saxby's 
office,  he  went  to  the  steamer  quite  early,  not  that 
he  was  anxious  to  get  away,  but  rather  that  he 
might  save  himself  from  resigning  at  the  last 
moment  and  staying  at  home!  After  disposing 
of  his  baggage,  and  being  shown  to  his  room, 
he  glanced  curiously  around  the  somewhat  nar- 
row quarters  where  he  was  to  spend  a  week  or 
more.  Then  he  went  on  deck  and  watched  the 
passengers  as  they  came  on,  studying  each  group 
with  more  or  less  interest.  He  noticed  a  carriage 
drive  up  to  the  gangway,  the  horses  bathed  in 
sweat,  as  though  the  driver  had  urged  them  for 
some  distance  at  their  utmost  speed,  and  to  his 
amazement  who  should  step  out  of  it  but  Miriam. 
He  was  on  the  upper  deck,  but,  before  Miriam 
had  reached  the  top  of  the  gangway,  he  was 
there  to  greet  her. 

"  I  was  so  afraid  of  missing  you,"  she  said. 
"  I  got  your  letter  just  in  time  to  take  an  express 
train,  otherwise  it  would  have  been  too  late. 
Now  tell  me  what  all  this  means." 

By  this  time  they  had  moved  some  little  dis- 
tance from  the  gangway  to  a  part  of  the  deck 
comparatively  secluded. 


58        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Paul  told  her  of  the  arrangement  by  which  he 
was  to  go  to  Hongkong,  have  charge  of  the 
office  there,  and  attend  to  some  important  mat- 
ters, at  the  urgent  request  of  Mr.  Saxby. 

"  Paul,"  she  said,  speaking  rapidly,  but  with 
marked  impressiveness,  "  I  understand  now  why 
I  was  hurried  off  to  Stamford,  and  you  are  being 
sent  to  China.  This  is  simply  a  plan  to  separate 
us.  Some  one  at  Pelham  has  played  the  spy,  and, 
as  a  result,  you  are  going  to  the  other  end  of  the 
earth.  But,  Paul,  it  will  not  make  any  difference. 
Just  remember'  that.  No  matter  what  you  hear, 
or  what  you  read,  or  what  news  is  sent  to  you, 
nothing  can  affect  my  love  for  you.  I  wanted 
to  say  this  to  you  before  you  went  away.  So  now 
good-by,  and  God  bless  you,  my  own,  own  Paul !  " 

"  God  bless  you,  my  own,  own  Miriam !  "  Paul 
said  in  return,  though  his  voice  was  husky,  and 
his  face  almost  deadly  pale. 

"  No,  don't  come  with  me  to  the  gangway ; 
stay  just  where  you  are.  The  ship  will  sail  in 
a  few  minutes.  Good-by  once  more,  Paul,  and 
remember  that  I  will  be  faithful  even  unto 
death."  The  last  words  were  hardly  audible. 
Paul  felt  rather  than  heard  them. 

He  saw  her  go  down  the  gangway,  reenter  the 
carriage  in  which  she  had  come,  and,  just  as  the 
tugs  began  to  pull  the  steamship  from  her  berth, 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  white  face  through 
the  carriage  window. 


VII. 

DANGERS  OF  THE  SEA 


I 


T  may  have  been  a  mere  chance,  but  it  so 
happened  that  Clarence  Fillmore  was  on  the 
steamer,  in  the  saloon,  standing  near  an  open 
port-hole,  when  Miriam  Saxby  was  bidding  Paul 
Bedford  good-by.  Some  friends  of  his,  the  Ver- 
nons,  brother  and  sister,  were  going  to  winter 
in  the  Riviera;  the  brother,  because  of  a  throat 
trouble  which  threatened  to  become  serious;  the 
sister,  because  she  was  fond  of  her  brother,  and 
would  not  allow  him  to  go  alone.  If  Kitty  Ver- 
non  had  lived  in  Pelham,  where  Clarence  Fill- 
more  might  have  seen  her  frequently,  or  in  New 
York,  which  is  a  suburb  of  Pelham,  he  would 
have  fallen  in  love  with  her  long  ago,  and  never 
troubled  the  Saxby  mansion  except  at  certain 
stately  functions.  Unfortunately,  she  resided  in 
Boston,  not  that  such  a  circumstance  implies  a 
misfortune,  but  because  propinquity  is  usually 
an  important  element  in  these  matters.  Clarence 

therefore  saw  Kitty  only  at  rare  intervals,  though 
59 


60        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

he  managed  to  keep  up  a  rambling  correspond- 
ence with  her  brother  Bert,  learning  from  him 
of  the  intended  sojourn  in  Europe.  So  he  had 
come  to  see  them  off. 

"  I  wish  you  were  coming  with  us,"  Bert  said, 
as  the  three  stood  chatting  in  the  saloon.  "  We 
are  going  to  have  a  lonely  trip.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Milltrums,  I  don't  know  a  person 
on  the  list." 

"  I  should  enjoy  it  immensely,"  Clarence  re- 
plied, pleasantly,  looking,  however,  not  at  Bert, 
but  at  the  trim,  tailor-gowned  figure  of  Kitty, 
who,  in  a  travelling  costume  of  dark  gray  tweed, 
a  golf  cape  of  Scotch  plaid  flung  loosely  over 
her  shoulders,  the  nattiest  little  hat  imaginable, 
and  with  sufficient  color  in  her  face  to  suggest 
both  health  and  life,  presented  an  appearance 
far  from  displeasing  to  the  masculine  eye. 

"  Are  the  Milltrums  on  the  list?  "  Kitty  asked, 
with  as  much  disapproval  as  a  Boston  girl  ever 
exhibits  in  public. 

"  Yes,"  Bert  answered,  somewhat  ruefully. 
Handing  the  passenger  list  to  Clarence,  he  said : 

"  Of  course,  one  doesn't  expect  much  of  a 
crowd  at  this  season,  but  you  may  know  some  of 
these  people." 

"  Why,  yes,  here  is  Bedford,  Mr.  Saxby's  new 
agent  at  Hongkong.  Mr.  Saxby  told  me  last 
evening  about  Bedford,  but  I  didn't  know  he 
was  going  on  this  ship." 


DANGERS    OF    THE    SEA  61 

"  Are  you  sure  it  wasn't  Miss  Saxby  who  told 
you  ?  "  Bert  asked,  with  assumed  gravity. 

"  Miss  Saxby  is  at  Stamford,"  Clarence  said, 
hastily ;  "  I  haven't  seen  her  for  nearly  two 
weeks." 

There  was  no  need  of  it,  and  no  seeming  cause 
for  it,  nevertheless  Clarence  flushed  perceptibly 
as  he  spoke,  a  matter  which  did  not  escape  the 
clear  eyes  of  the  girl  from  Boston. 

"  Bedford  is  rather  a  nice  fellow,"  Clarence 
went  on ;  "  musical,  literary,  and  all  the  rest 
of  it.  Good-looking,  too.  Better  exercise  a 
brother's  authority,  Bert,  or  he  may  be  giving 
you  trouble." 

For  some  reason,  Clarence  was  anxious  to  di- 
vert the  conversation  from  the  Saxby  channel, 
another  circumstance  very  patent  to  the  girl  from 
Boston. 

Just  then  the  last  warning  sounded,  so  the 
good-bys  were  hurried  through,  and  Clarence 
reached  the  gangway  the  same  moment  as 
Miriam,  both  of  them  going  down  within  a  step 
of  each  other.  He  recognized  her  instantly,  but 
made  no  sign,  and,  as  she  went  to  the  carriage, 
he  walked  rapidly  to  the  end  of  the  wharf,  re- 
maining there  until  the  steamer  pulled  out,  when 
he  waved  a  parting  salute  to  the  Vernons.  On 
his  way  back  to  the  Grand  Central  Station,  Clar- 
ence devoted  most  of  his  thought  to  Miriam 
Saxby's  unexpected  appearance  at  the  steamer 


62        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

gangway,  until  it  occurred  to  him  that  Mr.  Saxby 
had  entrusted  her  with  some  message  or  papers 
for  Paul  Bedford,  which,  in  the  rush  of  departure, 
had  been  forgotten. 

He  had  another  surprise  on  entering  the  sta- 
tion, for  almost  the  first  person  he  saw  was  Miss 
Saxby,  waiting  evidently  for  a  train. 

"  This  is  a  great  pleasure,"  he  said,  going  over 
to  where  she  stood.  "  I  thought  you  were  in 
Stamford." 

"  That  is  where  I  am  supposed  to  be,"  she 
answered,  quietly,  "  but  there  were  some  matters 
which  called  me  to  the  city." 

"  So  I  thought  when  I  saw  you  at  the  White 
Star  Pier  —  " 

"  Did  you  see  me?  "  Miriam  asked,  anxiously, 
without  giving  Clarence  time  to  finish  his  sen- 
tence. 

"  Yes ;  some  friends  of  mine  were  going  to- 
day, and  I  went  to  see  them  off.  You  left  the 
steamer  when  I  did,  in  fact,  we  were  on  the  gang- 
way together." 

"  Are  you  going  home  now  ? "  Miriam 
asked. 

"  On  the  next  train.  I  hope  you  are  going  at 
the  same  time." 

"  Would  it  inconvenience  you  to  go  to  Stam- 
ford?" 

"  Not  at  all.  This  is  not  my  busy  day,"  Clar- 
ence said,  smilingly. 


DANGERS    OF    THE    SEA  63 

"  Mr.  Fillmore,"  Miriam  said,  almost  as  soon 
as  the  train  moved  out  from  the  station,  "  there 
are  two  or  three  matters  of  which  I  wish  to  speak 
with  you."  Then  she  stopped  abruptly,  as  if 
afraid  to  say  what  she  had  intended. 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  service,"  Clarence  said, 
courteously,  wondering  meanwhile  at  Miss  Sax- 
by's  eager,  nervous  manner,  something  so  un- 
usual with  her. 

"  I  went  this  morning  to  see  Paul  Bedford 
off,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  observing  that  she  said 
"  Paul." 

"  You  may  have  thought  it  was  some  business 
matter  that  took  me  to  the  steamer." 

"  Yes,  I  did  think  so,"  Clarence  replied,  now 
thoroughly  mystified. 

"  Well,  it  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  No  one  at 
home  has  the  faintest  suspicion  that  I  have  been 
in  New  York  to-day.  I  am,  as  you  know,  visit- 
ing with  my  aunt  in  Stamford.  This  morning 
I  learned  for  the  first  time  that  Paul  Bedford  was 
going  to  Hongkong.  So  I  came  in  on  the  ex- 
press, and  had  just  time  to  see  him  before  the 
steamer  sailed.  Now  will  you  kindly  say  nothing 
about  having  seen  me.  When  I  return  to  Pel- 
ham  next  week,  I  will  explain  matters  as  best  I 
can,  though  some  things  will  be  difficult  and  un- 
pleasant." 

"You  mean  —  " 


64        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

Clarence  hesitated  that  Miss  Saxby  might  the 
more  fully  realize  what  he  implied. 

"  Yes,  I  mean  everything  and  anything." 
Miriam  was  now  desperate.  She  knew  that 
Paul's  ship  was  steaming  swiftly  across  the  sea, 
every  minute  taking  him  farther  away  from  her. 
She  knew  also  that  she  had  been  tricked  into 
going  to  Stamford  with  the  intent  of  hindering 
her  from  seeing  him  again.  And  she  knew  only 
too  well  what  would  be  said  when  it  became 
known  she  had  gone  to  the  steamer  to  bid  him 
good-by. 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you  and  Mr. 
Bedford  —  " 

"  Yes,"  Miriam  interrupted,  speaking  so  softly 
that  Clarence  could  hardly  catch  the  word. 

It  is  indeed  most  true  that  Clarence  was  not 
passionately  in  love  with  Miriam  Saxby.  It  was 
not  in  his  nature  to  be  passionately  in  love  with 
any  one.  Easy-going,  good-natured,  open-minded 
people  seldom  are. 

That  splendid  passion,  in  whose  intense  flame 
pride,  ambition,  every  form  of  selfishness  are 
eagerly  consumed,  which  makes  the  craven  a 
hero,  and  transmutes  the  common  metal  into 
refined  gold,  was  something  of  which  Clarence 
Fillmore  was  happily  ignorant.  Hence  Miriam's 
confession  did  not  plunge  him  into  the  depths 
of  despair,  nor  overwhelm  him  in  a  woe  from 
which  there  was  no  possible  escape.  Still,  he 


DANGERS    OF    THE    SEA  65 

was  disappointed,  keenly  so,  for  it  had  been  his 
hope,  and  not  a  distant  one  either,  of  winning 
Miriam's  consent  to  share  his  home  and  life. 
Something  of  this  was  expressed  in  his  face, 
usually  so  good-natured  and  pleasant.  And  this 
touched  Miriam,  for  she  remembered  Clarence's 
marked  attentions  during  the  spring  and  summer 
months,  and  her  quiet  acceptance  of  them. 

"  Clarence,"  she  said,  laying  her  hand  tenderly 
on  his  arm  while  speaking,  "  we  have  been  dear 
good  friends  for  a  long  time,  and  your  friend- 
ship was  never  more  precious  to  me  than  at  this 
moment.  Therefore,  I  am  trusting  you  implicitly, 
and  I  am  speaking  to  you  with  all  possible  frank- 
ness. I  want  you  to  remain  my  friend.  I  have 
great  need  of  you.  I  know  how  generous  and 
loyal  you  are.  Won't  you  help  me  ?  I  don't  mean 
simply  in  the  present  instance  of  not  speaking  to 
my  father  about  seeing  me  on  the  steamer,  but 
when  I  return  home.  My  people,  of  course,  will 
be  angry  and  disappointed,  but,  Clarence,  I  can't 
help  it,  indeed  I  can't.  And,  if  I  have  hurt  or 
grieved  you  in  any  way,  please  forgive  me." 

If  Miriam  had  been  a  shrewd,  astute,  worldly- 
minded  woman,  one  who  had  studied  carefully 
how  to  exercise  her  wiles  and  blandishments  so 
as  to  win  her  desires,  she  could  not  have  taken 
a  better  way  to  gain  the  sympathy  of  Clarence 
Fillmore.  But  she  was  neither  astute  nor  worldly- 
minded.  A  more  frank,  simple-hearted  girl  never 


66         THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

lived.  And  this  Clarence  knew.  Hence  her  ap- 
peal touched  him  deeply.  With  a  tenderness  of 
which  Miriam  hardly  thought  him  capable,  for 
naturally  his  voice  was  harsh,  and  his  manner 
somewhat  brusque,  he  said: 

"  Miriam,  I  will  not  pretend  to  hide  my  sur- 
prise and  disappointment.  Let  me  say  frankly 
that  I  hoped  we  might  have  been  something  more 
than  friends.  But  that  is  not  going  to  stand  in 
the  way  of  our  friendship  at  this  time,  so  you 
can  depend  on  me  for  any  service  I  can  possibly 
render." 

By  this  time  the  train  had  reached  Stamford, 
where  Clarence,  after  seeing  Miriam  to  a  car- 
riage, returned  to  the  station.  Lighting  a  cigar, 
he  walked  up  and  down  the  long  platform,  think- 
ing over  what  Miriam  had  said,  and  the  promise 
he  had  given  her,  concluding,  finally,  to  remain  in 
New  York  for  a  couple  of  days,  perhaps  longer, 
thus  avoiding  a  meeting  with  the  Saxbys,  and  the 
possibility  of  embarrassing  questions. 

So,  on  his  arrival  in  the  city,  he  telegraphed 
to  Pelham,  saying  he  would  not  return  before 
Wednesday  or  Thursday  of  the  following  week. 

As  Paul  Bedford  had  never  voyaged  on  an 
ocean  liner  before,  everything,  of  course,  was 
strange  to  him,  so  he  took  no  part  in  the  scramble 
for  seats  at  the  captain's  table,  the  immense  value 
of  such  an  honor  not  having  dawned  upon  him. 


DANGERS    OF    THE    SEA  67 

He  was  accordingly  assigned  to  the  purser's  table, 
by  no  means  an  undesirable  place,  for  the  purser 
was  a  genial  fellow,  who  took  a  personal  interest 
in  the  passengers  entrusted  to  his  care. 

As  the  Zidonia  was  sailing  easily,  the  sea  be- 
ing comparatively  smooth,  most  of  the  passengers 
were  down  to  dinner,  the  saloon  therefore  having 
the  festive  appearance  usual  on  the  first  evening 
out  from  New  York. 

Paul's  chair  was  at  the  extreme  end,  next  to 
that  of  the  purser,  who  at  once  entered  into  con- 
versation with  him,  speaking  English  with  a 
burr  distinctly  and  delightfully  Scotch. 

Nearly  opposite  him,  at  the  table,  Paul  saw 
a  young  and  attractive-looking  girl,  whose  dress 
and  bearing  suggested  Miriam,  though  in  every 
other  way  there  was  no  resemblance  whatever. 
This  girl  was  fair,  whereas  Miriam  was  dark; 
this  girl  had  clear  gray  eyes,  while  Miriam's 
were  almost  black;  this  girl's  features  were  en- 
tirely different  from  those  of  Miriam;  yet  there 
was  something  in  the  poise  of  her  small,  shapely 
head,  in  the  smile  which  at  times  played  on  her 
lips,  in  the  twinkle  of  suppressed  merriment  in  her 
eyes,  which  reminded  him  of  Miriam,  and  he 
found  himself  wondering  who  she  was,  and  if 
by  some  chance  he  might  be  introduced  to  her. 
Sitting  next  to  her  was  a  young  man  who  re- 
sembled her  in  many  ways,  so  Paul  instantly 
made  up  his  mind  they  were  brother  and  sister. 


68        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

After  dinner  he  went  to  the  smoking-room, 
where  the  formalities  are  seldom  oppressive,  and 
soon  Bert  Vernon  came  in,  taking  the  next  chair 
to  that  of  Paul. 

"  As  we  are  to  have  the  pleasure  of  sitting 
opposite  to  each  other,  at  the  same  table,  for  the 
next  seven  days,  suppose  we  exchange  cards," 
Bert  said,  pleasantly,  bringing  out  his  card-case 
and  giving  one  to  Paul. 

"  Thank  you,"  Paul  replied,  as  he  took  the 
card,  and  gave  his  in  return. 

"Well,  this -is  a  piece  of  rare  luck!"  Bert 
remarked,  heartily.  "  Clarence  Fillmore  was  on 
the  steamer  to  see  us  off,  and  he  looked  every- 
where for  you  that  he  might  introduce  us." 

"Mr.  Fillmore,  of  Pelham?"  Paul  asked, 
anxiously,  wondering  if  he  had  seen  Miriam 
on  the  steamer. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Fillmore  of  Pelham,  though  I 
knew  him  in  Harvard,  where,  like  myself,  he 
was  the  bright  particular  star  of  the  faculty,  the 
white-haired  boy  of  every  Don  in  Cambridge." 

Paul  smiled. 

"  You  evidently  are  acquainted  with  Mr.  Fill- 
more,  whose  insatiable  thirst  for  classic  lore  so 
distinguished  him  that  he  haunted  the  gymna- 
sium, made  daily  visits  to  the  ball  grounds,  pulled 
stroke  oar  in  every  race,  and  developed  muscle 
enough  to  wrestle  with  an  ox." 

Bert  rattled  off  this  tribute  to  Clarence  Fill- 


DANGERS    OF    THE    SEA  69 

more  in  such  a  lively  fashion  that  Paul  laughed 
heartily. 

"  He  is  one  of  the  best  fellows  in  the  world," 
Bert  went  on,  "  true  as  steel,  straight  as  a  gun- 
barrel,  couldn't  do  a  mean  thing  if  he  tried,  and 
is  good  stuff  clear  through." 

Though  Paul  knew  almost  nothing  of  Clarence 
Fillmore,  having  met  him  only  once  or  twice  at 
the  Saxbys',  he  was  glad  to  hear  young  Vernon 
speak  so  warmly  and  pleasantly  of  him.  Then 
they  chatted  of  other  things,  and  before  their 
cigars  were  half  through  each  had  formed  a 
kindly  opinion  of  the  other. 

"  I  want  you  to  meet  my  sister,"  Bert  said, 
as  they  both  left  the  smoking-room.  "  She  is 
a  first-rate  sailor,  far  better  than  I  am.  I  gen- 
erally go  under  the  second  day  out,  but  she  keeps 
up  all  the  way  over.  I  wish  I  could,  but  one 
can't  have  everything  in  this  world." 

Miss  Vernon  was  found  snugly  ensconced  in 
the  reading-room.  She  smiled  pleasantly  when 
Paul  was  introduced,  and  her  reception  was  all 
the  more  cordial  because  the  Milltrums,  who 
were  on  the  other  side  of  the  reading-room,  had 
suggested  only  a  few  minutes  before  that  she 
seemed  lonely  and  out  of  spirits. 

The  Milltrums  had  seats  at  the  captain's  table, 
within  easy  speaking  distance  of  that  mighty 
potentate,  and  as  a  consequence  thought  they 
owned  the  ship  and  all  that  it  contained. 


70         THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

True  to  his  promise,  Bert  disappeared  about 
noon  the  following  day,  as  also  many  others,  for 
the  Atlantic  in  December  has  whims  and  fancies 
of  its  own  which  are  not  to  be  trifled  with. 

Kitty  Vernon  and  Paul  Bedford  had,  there- 
fore, ample  opportunity  to  form  a  delightful 
acquaintance.  Sometimes  the  weather  would 
not  permit  of  a  deck  promenade,  for  the  Zidonia 
lurched  and  rolled  in  such  fashion  that  walking 
was  almost  impossible,  and  then  at  other  times 
not  only  would  the  spray  fall  in  sheets,  drench- 
ing those  who"  were  unluckily  on  deck,  but  an 
occasional  plunge  of  the  ship  would  send  floods 
of  water  well-nigh  the  entire  length  of  the  ves- 
sel, more  than  once  doing  considerable  mischief. 

But  Miss  Vernon  and  Paul  went  out  when- 
ever it  was  possible,  and  though  not  always  able 
to  escape  the  spray,  and  having  more  trouble  to 
keep  their  feet  than  either  of  them  bargained 
for,  their  experiences  were  amusing  rather  than 
hazardous,  and  they  would  laugh  heartily  at  their 
mishaps. 

After  a  time  they  began  to  talk  of  matters 
other  than  books  and  music  and  art,  and  ere  long 
the  name  of  Miss  Saxby  was  mentioned.  Paul 
never  knew  just  how  Miss  Vernon  managed  to 
lead  the  conversation  up  to  that  point,  but  she 
did,  and  adroitly,  not  because  of  any  wish  to 
pry  into  Paul's  affairs,  but  for  reasons  of  her 
own. 


DANGERS    OF    THE    SEA  71 

Nor  did  he  ever  learn  how  she  discovered  the 
real  condition  of  affairs,  but  she  did,  and  the  dis- 
covery gave  her  sincere  pleasure.  Then  they 
began  to  talk  freely,  at  least  Paul  did,  and  long 
before  the  Irish  coast  was  within  hailing  dis- 
tance, Kitty  Vernon  knew  most  of  the  hopes 
and  ambitions  with  which  Paul  Bedford's  heart 
was  filled. 

Oh  the  sixth  day  out,  a  dense  fog  had  settled 
down,  compelling  the  ship  to  creep  along  at  less 
than  half-speed,  and  the  big  horn  was  sounded 
every  few  minutes.  A  sense  of  danger  began 
to  overspread  the  Zidonia.  The  passengers  re- 
membered that  they  were  now  approaching  the 
Irish  coast,  where  many  a  noble  ship  had  met 
disaster. 

Those  who  had  lain  languidly  on  sofas  and 
steamer-chairs,  carefully  tended  by  the  stewards, 
now  bestirred  themselves,  and  more  than  one 
face  began  to  show  signs  of  anxious  dread.  As 
the  day  wore  on,  and  night  shadows  mingled 
with  the  fog,  the  anxiety  increased,  the  captain's 
absence  from  the  dinner-table  adding  to  the  gen- 
eral alarm.  Here  and  there  little  groups  formed 
in  the  library,  talking  softly,  so  unlike  the  hilarity 
usual  at  this  hour. 

"  The  Zidonia  is  one  of  the  best  ships  in  the 
Atlantic  service.  Captain  Bruce  is  a  thorough 
seaman,  and  has  had  many  years  experience,  but 
a  fog  on  the  Irish  coast  is  nasty,  and  makes  hard 


72         THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

sailing,"  the  purser  said,  in  reply  to  Paul  Bed- 
ford, who  spoke  to  him  soon  after  nightfall. 

"  What  would  you  advise  ?  "  Paul  asked,  won- 
dering if  it  would  not  be  well  to  warn  Vernon, 
and  thus  be  prepared  for  any  emergency. 

"  That  you  try  to  make  things  as  lively  as 
possible  in  the  saloon.  Get  up  some  kind  of  a 
concert  or  entertainment.  Start  the  young  peo- 
ple to  sing,  or  anything  else  you  can.  Whatever 
danger  there  is  does  not  threaten  us  to-night. 
We  are  still  a  long  way  from  the  coast.  Per- 
haps the  fog  may  lift  before  morning;  then  we 
can  see  where  we  are." 

So  Paul  bustled  around  enlisting  such  help 
as  he  could  find,  asking  one  to  sing,  another  to 
play,  another  to  recite,  doing  it  in  such  a  bright, 
cheery  way,  that  the  passengers  temporarily 
forgot  the  dangers  of  which  they  had  all  been 
speaking  but  a  few  minutes  before. 

In  the  morning  the  fog  had  not  lifted ;  it  was, 
if  anything,  more  dense  than  before.  Again 
the  captain  was  absent  from  the  table,  and  it 
was  known  that  he  had  spent  all  night  on  the 
bridge.  The  big  ship  groped  its  way  through 
the  encircling  mist  as  a  man  would  in  the  dark- 
ness, lifting  its  voice  with  a  strange  pathos,  as 
though  appealing  to  the  coast  for  some  answer- 
ing sign.  But  no  sound  broke  the  stillness  save 
the  churning  of  the  sea,  and  the  slow,  measured 
stroke  of  the  engines.  Every  ear  was  strained. 


DANGERS    OF    THE    SEA  73 

Every  eye  was  keen.  Every  heart  was  throb- 
bing intently.  It  was  now  suspected  that  the 
ship  was  out  of  its  course,  and  any  moment 
might  strike  the  awful  rocks  where  so  many 
others  had  struck. 

Bert  and  Kitty  Vernon  were  standing  with 
Paul  on  the  deck,  not  far  from  the  boat  of  which 
the  purser  would  have  command  in  case  the  boats 
were  lowered.  Bert  was  no  coward,  but  he  was 
a  semi-invalid,  and  the  raw,  pitiless  fog  almost 
choked  him.  Turning  to  Paul,  he  said :  "  If 
anything  happens,  look  out  for  Kitty." 

Kitty  tried  to  smile  reassuringly,  and  was 
about  saying  something  to  cheer  Bert,  when  the 
great  ship  rushed  upon  the  reefs,  whose  teeth 
tore  through  the  plates  of  steel  as  a  giant  saw 
ripping  its  way  through  soft  boards.  Then 
followed  a  scene  in  which  some  men,  like  raging 
demons,  fought  their  way  over  one  another  that 
they  might  reach  the  boats  at  the  davits,  tram- 
pling down  in  their  mad  fury  helpless  women  and 
children. 

"  Stand  back  there !  "  Paul  said  to  a  big  burly 
fellow,  who  was  pushing  his  way  to  the  purser's 
boat,  followed  by  a  dozen  or  more  equally  brutal 
and  selfish. 

The  man  made  no  reply,  but  pushed  on,  when 
Paul,  maddened  by  this  display  of  cowardice, 
with  one  blow  sent  him  sprawling  to  the  deck. 

Another  frightened  wretch  met  the  same  ter- 


74        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

rible  fist,  for  Paul  was  so  enraged  that  his  blows 
were  as  those  of  a  trip-hammer. 

"  Lower  the  boats !  Women  and  children 
first.  The  men  must  wait.  The  first  man  to 
enter  a  boat  without  permission  I  will  shoot," 
came  in  trumpet  tones  from  the  captain,  who 
was  standing  on  the  bridge.  Kitty  Vernon  re- 
fused to  leave  Bert,  and  no  entreaty  or  persua- 
sion had  the  least  effect  on  her.  Her  face  was 
pale,  for  the  awful  scene  deeply  moved  her,  but 
her  lip  did  not  quiver  as  she  saw  the  purser's 
boat  lowered,  and  when  filled  with  an  anxious, 
struggling  company,  pull  away  into  the  fog. 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  Bert,  not  before,"  she 
answered,  calmly,  and  neither  did  she,  and  it 
was  with  Bert  and  Paul  as  well  that  she  left  the 
ill-fated  Zidonia,  their  boat  being  the  last  to  pull 
away. 


VIII. 

LONDON 

HE  Misses  Milltrum,  so  recently  favored 
guests  at  the  captain's  table,  from  which  lofty 
place  of  social  honor  they  rarely  condescended  to 
less  distinguished  passengers,  made  a  sorry  ap- 
pearance as  they  huddled  in  the  stern  of  the  boat 
into  which  so  many  had  been  crowded.  That 
an  accident  could  happen  to  the  steamer  which 
carried  such  persons  and  fortunes  as  theirs  never 
once  occurred  to  them.  So  they  had  made  light 
of  the  suggestions  and  fears  which  troubled  wiser 
and  more  experienced  travellers,  and,  as  if  to 
emphasize  their  disregard  of  all  warnings,  came 
to  the  table  in  dainty  breakfast  gowns,  and  after 
breakfast  fluttered  about  the  saloon  in  genuine 
butterfly  fashion.  When  the  Zidonia  ran  on  the 
rocks,  and  it  was  feared  she  would  soon  founder, 
they  had  hardly  time  to  rush  to  their  rooms, 
gather  up  the  first  cloak  or  shawl  that  came  to 
hand,  and  then  hasten  to  the  deck,  which  by 
this  time  was  crowded,  and  in  fearful  confusion. 
Hundreds  of  Italians  returning  home  for  the 

76 


76         THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

Christmas  holidays;  scores  of  Germans  and 
Irish  bent  on  the  same  errand;  women  with 
children  in  their  arms  and  with  others  cling- 
ing to  their  skirts  had  come  up  from  the  steerage, 
and  their  cries,  screams,  shouts,  entreaties,  were 
heartrending. 

Boat  after  boat  pushed  off,  but  each  one  with- 
out the  Milltrums,  for  they  were  helpless  in  such 
a  rough  and  brutal  company.  Even  the  stewards, 
who  had  waited  on  them  with  such  solicitude, 
passed  them  by  without  a  thought  or  a  glance, 
and  as  they  stood  shivering  in  their  thin  silken 
gowns,  they  looked  helpless  and  forsaken. 

Paul  Bedford,  however,  came  to  their  rescue. 
Not  for  a  moment  did  he  think  of  the  cold  stares 
they  had  given  him,  or  the  icy  indifference  with 
which  they  had  regarded  him,  since  making  the 
discovery  that  he  was  in  the  service  of  Mr.  Saxby. 
Paul  only  remembered  that  they  were  helpless 
women,  whose  lives,  like  that  of  his  own,  were 
in  deadly  peril,  and  whom  he  was  bound  to  assist 
by  all  possible  means.  So  he  helped  them  into  the 
boat,  gave  them  his  heavy  ulster,  and  tried  to 
make  them  as  comfortable  as  was  feasible  under 
the  circumstances.  And  they  were  most  grateful, 
for  at  heart  they  were  well-meaning  women,  but, 
like  many  others,  had  allowed  a  little  money  to 
turn  their  heads. 

The  Milltrums,  however,  as  they  shivered 
under  Paul's  ulster,  determined,  if  they  ever  had 


LONDON  77 

the  opportunity,  to  repay  something  of  their  ob- 
ligations to  the  young  man  who  had  so  befriended 
them. 

Bert  and  Kitty  were  much  better  off  so  far 
as  raiment  was  concerned,  for  a  hint  from  the 
purser  had  enabled  Paul  to  warn  them  of  what 
might  happen  at  any  moment.  To  sit  cramped 
and  stiff  in  an  open  boat  for  long,  weary  hours, 
in  the  chill  wind  of  a  December  day,  enswathed 
by  a  mist  so  thick  that  the  keenest  eye  could 
not  see  the  boat's  length  ahead,  meant  for  all 
of  them  a  time  of  suffering  and  anxiety.  Bert 
Vernon  was  the  first  to  weaken,  for  the  pitiless 
fog  started  his  cough,  and  though  the  poor  fellow 
made  heroic  efforts  to  control  himself,  and  smiled 
bravely  after  each  racking  spasm,  it  was  very  evi- 
dent he  was  in  a  bad  way.  The  boat  was  so 
crowded  that  any  change  of  position  seemed 
impossible,  and  though  the  men  pulled  bravely 
at  the  oars,  the  choppy  sea  and  the  head  wind, 
but  most  of  all  the  dense  fog,  made  progress 
fearfully  slow. 

Ship-bread  and  water  were  served  out  during 
the  afternoon,  but  few  could  eat  or  drink,  nearly 
all  being  so  benumbed  with  cold  as  to  have  no 
desire  for  anything  but  warmth.  Then  it  began 
to  grow  dark,  and  there  seemed  every  prospect 
of  another  night  even  more  dreary  and  dismal 
than  the  one  before,  when  a  ship's  horn  was 
heard  in  the  distance,  followed  by  the  beat  of 


78         THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

paddles.  A  great  shout  was  at  once  raised,  the 
men  yelling  at  the  tops  of  their  voices,  and  some 
of  the  women  joining  in  the  scream.  Then  the 
ship's  horn  sounded  more  clearly,  the  paddles 
beating  just  fast  enough  to  give  the  vessel  steer- 
ageway.  Another  shout  was  now  raised,  this 
time  even  louder  and  stronger  than  before,  for 
hope  had  entered  into  every  breast,  and  fear  as 
well,  for  a  collision  with  the  unknown  steamer 
would  mean  death  to  nearly  all  on  the  boat. 
This  shout  was  answered  by  the  paddles  ceasing 
to  churn,  followed  by  a  long  blast  from  the  horn, 
and  then  a  succession  of  short  blasts.  Again  the 
Zidonia's  boat  made  eager  response,  and  the  men 
at  the  oars  pulled  with  all  their  might  in  the 
direction  of  the  unseen  ship,  which  again  and 
again  sent  out  its  cheering  sound.  At  length 
there  loomed  up  out  of  the  fog  and  darkness 
a  channel  steamer,  over  whose  sides  leaned  almost 
every  man  on  board,  and  soon  the  benumbed, 
well-nigh  frozen  passengers  of  the  Zidonia  were 
receiving  such  care  as  the  warm-hearted  British- 
ers could  bestow.  The  next  day  they  were 
landed  at  Liverpool,  where  most  of  them  re- 
mained to  hear  from  the  other  boats  on  which 
they  had  friends  and  relatives.  The  Vernons, 
with  Paul  Bedford,  hastened  on  to  London, 
Kitty  being  anxious  to  reach  the  Riviera  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment,  for  she  had  much 


LONDON  79 

cause  to  fear  the  results  of  the  exposure  and 
cold  on  Bert. 

Paul  received  a  cordial  welcome  at  the  London 
office  from  Mr.  Shellard,  the  manager  in  charge, 
and  by  him  was  shown  such  of  the  sights  and 
lions  of  the  huge  metropolis  as  are  usually  sought 
by  tourists.  Of  course  he  admired  the  Abbey 
and  the  Tower,  St.  Paul's,  and  the  Houses  of 
Parliament,  but  he  felt  lonely  and  depressed. 
The  city  was  gay,  for  it  was  almost  Christmas, 
the  festival  of  all  others  dear  to  English  hearts. 
But  he  had  an  unutterable  longing  for  New 
York,  not  for  New  York  in  itself,  but  because 
it  was  within  half  an  hour  of  Pelham!  More 
than  once  he  would  leave  the  office  and  wander 
along  the  streets,  looking  into  the  shop-windows, 
where  there  were  so  many  beautiful  things  he 
wanted  to  buy  for  Miriam. 

In  Bond  Street  he  imaginatively  selected  pearl 
necklets,  diamond  brooches,  rings  and  pins  of 
exquisite  design,  more  than  enough  to  have 
swamped  a  fortune.  He  associated  Miriam  with 
every  pretty  thing  he  saw,  and  in  fancy  bought 
her  at  least  a  thousand  Christmas  gifts,  following 
each  one  with  his  heart's  desire.  When  he  went 
to  St.  Paul's  on  Sunday  morning,  as  the  organist 
played  something  from  "  The  Messiah,"  he 
thought  of  Miriam  and  the  unaffected  pathos 
with  which  one  evening  she  had  sung,  "  He  was 
despised."  Going  early  that  same  afternoon  to 


80        THE    MYSTERY   OF   MIRIAM 

Westminster  Abbey,  his  heart  throbbed  wildly  as 
he  saw,  in  a  party  of  Americans,  who  were  being 
escorted  by  the  verger  to  a  prominent  pew,  a 
girl  who  reminded  him  of  Miriam.  Indeed,  so 
completely  were  his  thoughts  taken  up  by  her, 
that  if,  when  he  was  standing  on  some  street 
corner  undecided  as  to  which  turn  he  ought  to 
take,  a  policeman  should  have  suddenly  asked 
him  his  name,  he  would  most  likely  have  instantly 
replied,  "Miriam  Saxby!" 

With  what  rejoicing,  therefore,  did  he  receive 
a  letter  with  the  Pelham  postmark,  dated  a  few 
days  after  he  had  left  New  York. 

Parts  of  this  letter  are  too  tender  for  such 
coarse,  harsh  things  as  printer's  type.  We  must 
therefore  in  this  case  be  content  with  a  scrap 
here  and  there. 

"...  I  have  reason  to  think  that  my  visit 
to  Stamford  was  planned,  just  as  the  opening 
in  Hongkong  was  made  for  you.  But  it  is  too 
late.  I  am  yours  for  time  and  eternity,  just  as 
you  are  mine.  And  I  now  withdraw  my  obli- 
gations of  secrecy.  On  the  way  home  last  Sat- 
urday I  told  Clarence  Fillmore  how  matters 
stood.  He  was  on  the  steamer  seeing  some 
friends  off,  and  we  met  in  the  station.  He  has 
promised  to  be  my  friend,  and  that  promise  he 
will  keep.  At  the  first  good  opportunity  I  intend 
speaking  to  papa,  for  I  will  not  allow  him  to 
think  that  everything  is  not  fully  understood 


LONDON  81 

between  us.  He  is  likely  to  be  angry,  for  rea- 
sons which  you  understand,  but  that  will  make 
no  difference.  It  would  not  surprise  me  if  he 
requested  your  resignation,  for  which  I  am  al- 
most hoping,  as  then  you  would  soon  be  home 
again.  And  remember,  Paul,  when  you  are 
ready  to  take  me,  I  am  ready  to  go.  I  dearly 
love  my  parents  and  my  beautiful  home,  but  the 
love  that  I  have  for  you  means  a  thousandfold 
more  to  me  than  houses  or  money  or  anything 
else!  Don't  forget  that.  You  are  now  a  part 
of  my  life,  not  simply  an  essential  to  my  happi- 
ness, but  to  my  very  being.  ...  I  am  eagerly 
looking  for  a  letter  from  you,  and  I  need  not 
say,  am  wishing  for  you  a  pleasant  trip,  for  I 
write  this  as  you  are  on  the  sea." 

That  evening  Paul  wrote  a  frank,  manly  letter 
to  Mr.  Saxby,  which  he  carried  to  the  General 
Post  Office  in  St.  Martins  Le  Grand,  to  secure 
its  going  out  on  the  morning  mail.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  that  the  same  mail  carried  a  much 
longer  letter  to  Miriam. 

Walking  down  Regent  Street  early  one  after- 
noon, Paul  met  the  Milltrums,  who  greeted  him 
very  cordially,  and  insisted  on  his  dining  with 
them  that  evening  at  the  Langham.  He  made 
various  excuses,  but  they  would  not  be  refused, 
and  urged  him  so  strongly  that  to  decline  would 
have  seemed  a  discourtesy.  After  dinner  Miss 
Milltrum,  a  keen,  shrewd  woman  of  at  least 


82        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

thirty-five,  Maud,  her  sister,  possibly  five  years 
younger,  led  Paul  to  speak  of  his  proposed  trip 
to  Hongkong,  and  his  position  there  as  agent 
for  Mr.  Saxby. 

"  A  young  man  such  as  you  should  not  be 
compelled  to  go  to  Hongkong,"  Miss  Milltrum 
said,  in  her  sharp,  decisive  way. 

"  Beggars  can't  be  choosers,"  Paul  replied, 
with  a  smile. 

"  I  wouldn't  go  to  Hongkong  for  all  the  Mr. 
Saxbys  between  here  and  the  North  Pole,"  Miss 
Maud  said,  with  even  more  decision  than  her 
sister. 

"Why?"  Paul  asked,  looking  first  at  one, 
then  at  the  other. 

"  Why  should  a  trained,  keen-witted  Amer- 
ican waste  himself  in  a  life  which  has  no  possi- 
bilities whatever?  " 

It  was  Miss  Milltrum  who  spoke,  holding  her 
hand  so  as  to  shield  her  face  from  the  flaring 
firelight,  meantime  steadily  regarding  Paul. 

"  I  am  considered  a  most  fortunate  person," 
Paul  replied,  "  almost  every  man  in  the  office 
envies  me.  Some  of  them  seem  to  think  that  I 
have  fallen  heir  to  '  Jacob's  ladder/  and  can 
easily  climb  from  the  stone  pillow  of  poverty  to 
the  heaven  of  wealth  and  prosperity." 

"  An  agent  of  Mr.  Saxby  at  Hongkong  re- 
sembles an  umbrella  which  has  its  biggest  and 
best  spread  at  the  first  opening.  An  umbrella, 


LONDON  83 

Mr.  Bedford,  has  neither  ideals  nor  possibilities." 
This  time  Miss  Milltrum  the  younger  was  the 
speaker. 

For  some  reason  the  Misses  Milltrum  did  not 
like  Mr.  Saxby.  That  was  very  evident. 

"  You  have  been  exceedingly  kind  to  us,  Mr. 
Bedford,"  Miss  Milltrum  said,  speaking  with 
some  feeling,  "  and  we  are  under  obligations 
which  we  can  never  hope  to  repay.  It  is,  of 
course,  very  thoughtless  of  us,  though  we  do 
not  mean  any  unkindness,  I  assure  you,  to  dis- 
courage your  going  to  Hongkong.  But  should 
you  for  any  reason  give  up  your  appointment 
there,  do  us  the  great  favor  of  communicating 
with  the  Milltrums  of  Chicago,  who  have  im- 
portant interests  in  that  city.  I  wanted  to  say 
this  to  you,  and  perhaps  we  may  have  the  privi- 
lege of  proving  that  we  are  not  ungrateful." 

Before  Paul  could  reply,  Miss  Milltrum  went 
on,  but  in  much  lighter  vein: 

"  Having  disposed  of  these  business  prelimi- 
naries, if  you  have  no  other  engagement  for  the 
evening,  will  you  kindly  take  us  to  the  Lyceum? 
Irving  is  there  playing  in  '  The  Bells,'  and  we 
are  most  anxious  to  see  him.  My  sister  thought- 
fully secured  a  box,  and  the  carriage  is  ordered 
for  eight." 

Paul  understood  perfectly  the  tact  and  delicate 
courtesy  of  the  Milltrums  in  this  arrangement, 
and  immediately  accepted  their  invitation. 


84         THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

That  evening,  as  he  intently  studied  Irving, 
Paul  Bedford  entered  into  the  realm  of  the  oc- 
cult and  mysterious,  nor  was  it  so  much  by  the 
arts  and  stage  tricks  of  the  actor,  as  through  the 
suggestions  which  were  made  to  his  own  mind. 
If  the  wretched  innkeeper  in  a  dream,  when 
under  the  supposed  influence  of  a  mesmerist, 
must  needs  go  back  many  years  in  his  life,  and 
reenact  the  tragedy  of  which  he  was  such  a  ter- 
rible figure,  why  not  have  reincarnations  in  other 
forms  and  even  more  impressive  conditions? 
Was  not  the  innkeeper's  dream  as  real  as  the 
thoughts  and  life  of  his  waking  hours?  With 
bated  breath  he  followed  every  movement  of 
Irving,  whose  acting  as  the  innkeeper  is  so  power- 
ful that  even  the  most  dull  and  unimaginative 
are  strangely  moved  by  it. 

The  Milltrums,  hardened  playgoers  as  they 
were,  did  not  so  much  as  whisper  all  the  time 
Irving  was  on  the  stage.  Paul  thought  of 
Miriam,  so  keenly  sensitive,  so  easily  moved  by 
everything  that  appealed  to  her  higher  nature, 
so  deeply  affected  by  certain  phases  of  thought 
and  emotion,  and  he  wondered  if,  when  Irving 
went  to  New  York,  she  would  go  to  see  him. 
How  her  eyes  would  fill  with  light,  her  face 
become  strangely  tense,  her  lips  quiver  with 
suppressed  excitement!  He  could  see  her  lean- 
ing eagerly  forward  lest  a  word  or  movement 
should  escape  her,  and  he  could  almost  hear  her 


LONDON  85 

sigh  of  relief  when  the  curtain  fell,  and  the  lights 
turned  up  again. 

Going  back  to  the  Langham,  very  little  was 
said,  each  one  seemingly  working  out  the  prob- 
lem so  powerfully  given  at  the  Lyceum. 

Having  mastered,  at  least  in  part,  some  of  the 
principal  features  of  Mr.  Saxby's  interests  in 
Hongkong,  Paul  began  to  make  his  preparations 
for  leaving  London.  Passage  was  engaged  on 
the  P.  &  O.  steamer,  which  sailed  from  the  East 
India  docks  the  Saturday  following,  and  as  the 
Zidonia  did  not  prove  such  a  wreck  as  was  at  first 
feared,  Paul  secured  his  baggage  containing  the 
outfit  he  had  bought  in  New  York.  One  morn- 
ing, on  going  to  the  office,  Mr.  Shellard  handed 
him  a  cablegram  which  read : 

"  Have  made  other  arrangements  for  Hong- 
kong—  you  are  no  longer  in  my  service.  Mr. 
Shellard  will  settle  all  financial  matters  with  you. 

"  GASTON   SAXBY." 

Paul  turned  deadly  pale,  and  for  the  moment 
was  completely  stunned,  but  he  suddenly  remem- 
bered that  Miriam  had  written :  "  It  would  not 
surprise  me  if  he  requested  your  resignation,  for 
which  I  am  almost  hoping,  as  then  you  would 
soon  be  home  again." 

"What  is  the  trouble?"    Mr.  Shellard  asked, 


86         THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

seeing  how  excited  Paul  was.  Paul  simply 
handed  him  the  cablegram. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing?  "  he  then  asked, 
not  unkindly,  for  he  had  taken  quite  a  liking  to 
Paul. 

"  Nothing  to  warrant  this,"  Paul  answered, 
taking  the  cablegram  from  Mr.  Shellard's  hands, 
and  reading  it  once  more. 

"No  scrape  or  foolery  on  the  other  side? 
No  trouble  about  money  matters?  Things,  you 
know,  always  look  a  thousand  times  worse  when 
a  fellow  is  nof  there  to  explain  them."  Mr. 
Shellard  had  genuine  sympathy  in  his  tone. 

"  The  head  and  front  of  my  offence  is  this," 
Paul  said,  grimly,  "  I  have  presumed  to  fall  in 
love  with  Miss  Saxby,  and  have  been  honest 
enough  to  ask  her  father  to  approve." 

Mr.  Shellard  looked  at  Paul  in  silent  amaze- 
ment. That  he,  a  clerk  in  Mr.  Saxby's  office, 
should  have  had  the  effrontery  to  raise  his  eyes 
to  Miss  Saxby,  and  actually  write  to  her  father 
proposals  of  marriage,  seemed  to  him  audacity 
of  such  proportions  as  to  be  almost  sublime! 

"  And  you  call  that  nothing,"  he  said,  when 
his  astonishment  had  so  far  subsided  as  to  admit 
of  speech. 

"  Nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,"  Paul  answered, 
hotly,  "  and  certainly  nothing  to  warrant  instant 
dismissal  from  his  service,  as  if  I  were  a  common 
messenger  or  office-boy." 


LONDON  87 

"  Now,  Bedford,  you  surely  have  sense  enough 
to  know  that  Mr.  Saxby  couldn't  possibly  retain 
you  as  one  of  his  agents,  after  such  a  prepos- 
terous suggestion." 

"  There  was  nothing  preposterous  about  it," 
Paul  replied,  as  hotly  as  before. 

"  Let  us  look  at  it  calmly  for  a  minute.  Here 
you  are  a  young  man  with  hardly  salary  enough 
to  pay  your  way,  and  a  prospect  of  spending  five 
or  ten  years  of  life  in  Hongkong.  Under  these 
conditions  you  write  to  Mr.  Saxby,  proposing 
marriage  with  his  daughter,  a  young  lady  who 
has  never  known  anything  but  luxury,  and  no 
more  fitted  for  a  poor  man's  wife  than  I  am  to 
be  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  My  dear  fellow, 
the  thing  is  absurd!  Of  course  I  am  sorry  for 
you,  very  sorry,  and  if  I  had  known  that  you 
intended  making  such  a  proposal  I  would  have 
tried  to  dissuade  you.  Nothing  can  be  done 
now.  The  only  question  is,  what  are  you  going 
to  do?  I  would  advise  you  to  remain  in  Lon- 
don. Mr.  Saxby  has  considerable  influence  in 
New  York.  And  these  big  firms  stand  in  to- 
gether on  certain  lines.  So  the  chances  are  that 
he  will  block  your  way.  You  would  do  better 
to  stay  here.  That  is  my  honest  opinion." 

And  Mr.  Shellard  meant  every  word  of  it. 
Not  even  the  chance  to  be  elected  governor  of 
the  Bank  of  England  would  have  kept  Paul 
Bedford  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  with 


88        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

Miriam  Saxby  in  Pelham.  Indeed,  after  the 
first  shock  of  his  summary  dismissal  had  passed, 
he  actually  felt  a  sense  of  relief,  and  hastened 
to  the  shipping  office  to  secure  passage  on  the 
first  steamer  for  New  York. 

That  evening  he  called  at  the  Langham  to 
see  the  Milltrums,  who  next  day  were  going  to 
Nice  for  the  winter. 

"  So  you  are  not  going  to  Hongkong !  "  Miss 
Milltrum  said,  eagerly,  when  he  had  spoken  of 
the  other  arrangements  Mr.  Saxby  proposed. 

Naturally  he -made  no  reference  to  his  dis- 
missal from  Mr.  Saxby's  service,  for  that  would 
probably  have  opened  the  way  to  other  matters, 
and  brought  Miriam's  name  into  the  conversa- 
tion. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  Miss  Maud  said.  "  Now 
let  me  say  that  we  have  written  to  the  Chicago 
Milltrums,  and  if  you  think  of  leaving  New 
York,  don't  forget  your  promise.  The  Chicago 
Milltrums  may  not  be  quite  so  prominent  as  Mr. 
Saxby,  but  they  are  fully  as  honorable." 

The  emphasis  given  to  the  term  "  honorable  " 
was  most  distinct. 

Within  two  days  Paul  Bedford  was  again  on 
the  Atlantic,  and  the  New  Year  had  hardly  well 
announced  itself  before  he  was  back  in  New 
York. 


MR. 


IX. 

NEW  YORK  AND  HARD  TIMES 


!..  SHELLARD  proved  a  true  prophet. 
The  mysterious  but  powerful  influence  of  Mr. 
Saxby  thwarted  Paul  Bedford  continually,  and 
offices  which,  a  few  months  before,  would  have 
eagerly  made  place  for  him,  coldly  turned  his 
applications  aside.  While  nothing  was  said 
which  reflected  in  any  degree  on  the  young 
man's  integrity,  —  Mr.  Saxby  being  far  too 
shrewd  for  that,  —  there  was  a  hazy,  undefined 
suspicion  suggestively  whispered,  a  suspicion 
far  more  injurious  than  a  frank,  positive  charge. 
Leaving  Mr.  Saxby's  service  just  after  his  ap- 
pointment to  Hongkong;  receiving  his  dismissal 
by  cable;  without  Mr.  Saxby's  name  as  one  of 
his  references,  and  refusing  to  offer  any  expla- 
nations, were  matters  too  serious  for  business  men 
to  overlook.  So  Paul  received  either  scant  favor 
or  curt  refusal.  His  former  office  associates 
avoided  him  as  though  he  had  the  plague.  He 
wrote  to  Mr.  Crewe,  with  whom  he  had  been 

on  the  most  friendly  terms,  but  received  no  reply. 

89 


90        THE    MYSTERY   OF   MIRIAM 

Fortunately,  he  had  been  able  to  return  to  his 
boarding-place  on  Washington  Square,  and  so 
far  Mrs.  Figgis  had  received  proper  response 
to  the  neatly-folded  bill,  which  every  week 
nestled  under  his  plate.  But  as  the  weeks  went 
by,  Paul  saw  that  things  were  growing  serious. 
He  went  from  place  to  place  making  inquiries; 
he  answered  newspaper  advertisements;  he  of- 
fered to  do  almost  any  kind  of  office  work,  but 
when  asked,  "  In  what  office  were  you  last  ?  " 
or  "  Why  did  you  leave  Mr.  Saxby  ?  "  he  had 
no  reply  except  a  proud  silence,  which  nothing 
could  break.  This  usually  ended  the  interview. 
So  it  went  on  from  week  to  week.  There  came 
a  time  when  his  little  stock  of  money  was  ex- 
hausted and  there  were  days  when  he  knew 
the  meaning  of  actual  hunger.  He  struggled 
on,  pawning  some  little  trinkets  that  had  be- 
longed to  his  mother,  and  finally  the  gold  watch, 
once  a  cherished  possession  of  his  father.  All 
this  time  he  heard  nothing  from  Miriam,  though 
not  once  did  he  question  her  loyalty  or  affec- 
tion. 

Finally  he  remembered  a  college  classmate 
on  the  staff  of  The  Gotham  Gazette,  and  through 
him  was  introduced  to  the  news  editor,  who  re- 
ceived him  kindly.  At  first,  by  doing  odd  jobs 
in  the  office  and  scribbling  a  little  now  and  then, 
he  managed  to  earn  enough  to  meet  the  claims 
of  Mrs.  Figgis,  but  not  much  more.  After  a 


NEW   YORK   AND    HARD    TIMES     91 

few  weeks  he  did  better,  and  was  given  assign- 
ments of  some  importance. 

"  Saxby,  of  Pelham,  is  going  to  have  a  big 
blowout,  and  wishes  us  to  send  a  reporter  to 
his  house  to-morrow  evening.  Grey  was  going, 
but  the  chief  has  sent  him  to  Washington.  Fix 
up  and  go  along,  Bedford;  it  will  pay  you."  It 
was  the  news  editor  who  spoke,  looking  at  Paul, 
who  was  making  up  copy  he  had  just  returned 
from  gathering. 

To  go  to  Pelham!  To  be  in  the  same  house 
with  Miriam  once  more!  To  see  her,  perhaps 
even  speak  with  her!  In  a  moment  all  this 
flashed  upon  Paul,  and  his  heart  throbbed  wildly. 
But  in  another  moment  he  realized  the  impossi- 
bility of  accepting  this  assignment.  Mr.  Saxby 
would  instantly  recognize  him,  and  a  scene  prob- 
ably follow. 

"  Can't  Wilkins  go  ? "  he  asked  the  news 
editor,  referring  to  a  member  of  the  staff,  who 
usually  took  care  of  society  matters. 

"  No,  there  is  a  wedding  at  the  Vanderplonks, 
and  later  the  McFoosilum's  ball." 

"  All  right,"  Paul  answered,  desperately,  re- 
solved to  find  some  excuse  for  declining  this 
unexpected  duty. 

As  he  thought  it  over,  there  came  into  his 
mind  such  an  overwhelming  desire  to  see  Miriam, 
that  he  determined  to  go,  regardless  of  conse- 
quences. 


92         THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

The  gathering  at  the  Saxbys'  was  a  brilliant 
affair.  The  big  house  was  lighted  from  top  to 
bottom.  Potted  plants  in  endless  variety  and 
profusion  filled  up  nooks,  chinks,  corners,  so  as 
to  suggest  rooms  and  spaces  beyond;  the  Saxby 
hothouse  furnished  all  manner  of  flowers,  and 
so  lavishly  that  for  once  the  decorators  had  more 
than  enough  to  work  out  their  designs;  an  or- 
chestra of  trained  musicians  were  cunningly 
hidden  behind  a  screen  of  palms,  thus  softening 
their  music  and  imparting  to  it  the  quality  of 
distance;  the  most  fashionable  caterer  of  New 
York,  —  Tortoni,  of  Broadway,  had  charge  of 
the  refreshments,  and,  so  far  as  money  and  good 
taste  were  concerned,  nothing  was  left  undone 
to  make  the  evening  one  of  rare  enjoyment. 

Mr.  Saxby  had  a  double  purpose  in  this  cele- 
bration —  to  announce  definitely  his  own  full 
restoration  to  health,  and  give  his  friends  an 
opportunity  to  offer  their  congratulations;  and 
also  to  impress  some  English  capitalists,  who 
had  come  over  on  promoting  enterprises.  Mr. 
Saxby  invariably  had  two  strings  to  his  bow, 
and  other  strings  in  his  pocket  as  well.  The 
violin  might  not  yield  all  the  music  expected, 
but  the  fault  would  not  be  in  the  bow,  or  in  Mr. 
Saxby's  supply  of  strings. 

Mrs.  Saxby,  imposing  and  impressive  as  dress- 
making art  and  a  deep  pervading  sense  of  her 
own  importance  could  secure,  received  her  guests 


NEW  YORK  AND  HARD  TIMES  93 

with  unrelaxing  dignity,  a  sure  proof  of  recent 
accession  to  social  honor.  When  a  woman  has 
to  put  corsets  on  her  manners,  or  watch  her 
words  lest  one  tumble  out  the  wrong  way,  her 
pedigree  is  so  short  that  one  step  back  leads  to 
a  whole  bunch  of  ancestors  with  whom  acquaint- 
ance is  by  no  means  desirable. 

What  Mrs.  Saxby  lacked  in  repose  and  gentle- 
ness of  manner,  Miriam  supplied,  for  in  her  sim- 
ple white  gown  of  Colonial  fashion,  a  style  from 
which  she  rarely  departed,  a  string  of  pearls  as 
flawless  as  the  neck  which  they  encircled,  her 
dark  hair  bringing  out  in  exquisite  contrast  her 
pale  and  wonderfully  expressive  face,  she  looked, 
when  compared  with  her  mother,  like  an  Easter 
lily  beside  a  hollyhock.  And  Miriam  was  even 
paler  than  usual.  In  the  early  evening,  under 
the  first  flush  of  excitement,  she  had  enough 
color  to  tinge  her  cheek  slightly,  but  later  this 
died  away.  Then  there  was  a  hunted,  frightened 
look  in  her  eyes ;  not  that  they  lacked  brightness, 
for  they  shone  as  stars,  but  there  was  something 
in  them  which  suggested  apprehension,  if  not 
positive  fear. 

Clarence  Fillmore  managed  to  get  a  few  min- 
utes' chat  with  her,  the  first  since  their  conver- 
sation on  the  train  to  Stamford. 

"  I  had  a  long  letter  the  other  day  from  Bert 
Vernon.  It  was  the  Vernons  I  went  to  see  off 
that  day." 


94        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

Miriam  smiled,  but  sadly.  She  well  remem- 
bered the  day  Clarence  referred  to. 

"  Bert  has  a  whole  raft  of  good  things  to  say 
about  Mr.  Bedford.  He  was  the  hero  of  the 
wreck;  knocked  people  down  who  were  not  be- 
having well;  helped  some  people  who  were  in 
all  kinds  of  trouble,  and  showed  himself  to  be 
a  first-rate  fellow." 

Miriam's  eyes  glowed  as  Clarence,  in  his  frank, 
boyish  way,  spoke  of  Paul. 

"  Bert  and  Kitty  —  Kitty  is  his  sister,  you 
know,  and  a  mighty  nice  girl  —  came  across  the 
Milltrums  the  other  day  in  Nice.  The  Milltrums 
were  on  the  Zidonia  with  the  Vernons.  Miss 
Milltrum  told  Bert  that  Mr.  Bedford  did  not 
go  to  Hongkong  after  all." 

"  Where,  then,  did  he  go  ?  "  Miriam  asked,  in 
amazement. 

"  The  Milltrums  said  that  he  expected  to  sail 
for  New  York  about  the  last  of  December." 

"  But  why  haven't  I  heard  from  him  ?  Paul 
in  New  York  all  this  time,  and  not  a  line  from 
him!" 

Clarence  had  no  reply  ready,  but  strongly 
suspected  that  Mr.  Saxby  could  easily  have 
supplied  the  necessary  information. 

"  I  have  written  him  every  few  days  at  the 
London  office,"  she  went  on,  "  and  yet  have 
received  only  one  letter  from  him  since  he  went 
away." 


NEW   YORK   AND    HARD    TIMES     95 

This  time  Clarence  thought  Mrs.  Saxby,  if 
she  so  desired,  could  explain  matters. 

Then  he  said: 

"  The  Milltrums  gave  Bert  the  impression 
that  Mr.  Bedford  might  go  to  Chicago." 

"On  business?" 

"  Yes,  but  not  connected  with  Mr.  Saxby." 

"  Then  Paul  wrote  to  papa,  who,  I  suppose, 
was  angry,  and  probably  dismissed  him." 

"Very  likely." 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  very  much  ex- 
hausted, and  hoping  to  gain  a  few  moments' 
rest,  Miriam  went  to  the  library,  where,  to  her 
disappointment,  she  saw  a  middle-aged  man,  a 
reporter,  evidently,  copying  off  the  guest-list, 
and  writing  an  account  of  the  gathering  for 
a  morning  paper.  The  reporter  had  iron-gray 
hair,  a  heavy  beard,  which  covered  most  of  his 
face,  and,  though  the  light  was  comparatively 
dim,  he  wore  blue  glasses,  as  if  to  protect  his 
eyes. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Miriam  said,  quietly, 
"  I  did  not  know  any  one  was  here." 

For  reply,  the  reporter  raised  his  hand  with 
a  warning  gesture,  which  startled  Miriam,  then 
he  glanced  quickly  around  the  room  to  see  if 
they  were  alone,  and  in  another  moment  had 
arisen  from  the  table  at  which  he  was  writ- 
ing. 

"  Miriam !  "    he  whispered. 


96        THE    MYSTERY   OF   MIRIAM 

"  Paul !  "  she  answered,  between  a  whisper 
and  sob. 

"  I  had  to  come,"  he  said,  hurriedly.  "  I 
wanted  to  see  you,  to  speak  with  you  if  possi- 
ble. It  is  nearly  three  months  since  I  heard  from 
you,  and  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer." 

"  I  have  written  you  a  dozen  times,"  she  said, 
excitedly,  though  speaking  in  a  whisper. 

"  And  I  have  written  you  twice  a  dozen  times," 
'he  replied,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  My  poor  Paul !  "  she  murmured,  tenderly. 
"  But  I  must  be  going  now.  Contrive  in  some 
way  to  leave  your  address  with  Clarence  Fill- 
more.  I  will  then  be  able  to  write  you.  Good 
night,  Paul!  and  remember,  whatever  happens, 
I  am  your  Miriam." 

The  last  words  were  spoken  with  such  softness 
that  Paul  barely  heard  them,  then  she  disap- 
peared. 

The  next  day  The  Gotham  Gazette  gave  a 
generous  report  of  the  Saxby  reception.  Mr. 
Saxby,  while  affecting,  like  some  other  promi- 
nent financiers,  a  contempt  for  newspaper  fame, 
secretly  loved  to  see  his  name  in  print,  particu- 
larly when  it  was  associated  with  the  social 
world. 

"  That  reporter  of  The  Gotham  Gazette  evi- 
dently knew  his  business,"  he  said  the  following 
evening  to  Mrs.  Saxby  and  Miriam,  after  read- 
ing the  lengthy  notice.  "  I  thought  at  first  he 


NEW    YORK    AND    HARD    TIMES     97 

was  an  awkward,  blundering  fellow,  for  he 
stooped,  and  shuffled,  and  hardly  seemed  to  know 
what  he  was  doing." 

Miriam  was  reading  the  Gazette  just  then, 
holding  it  well  up  to  her  face,  otherwise  Mr. 
Saxby  might  have  seen  a  strange  gleam  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  ghost  of  a  smile  on  her  lips. 

"  I  will  send  that  reporter  my  compliments 
and  the  price  of  a  couple  of  boxes  of  cigars," 
he  continued. 

Mr.  Saxby  had  a  distinct  impression  that 
everything  in  this  world  was  a  matter  of  cash 
settlement,  and  that  a  check  wiped  out  all  possi- 
ble obligations.  Perhaps  if  he  had  seen  Miriam's 
face  at  that  moment  its  expression  might  have 
startled  him. 

But  there  are  some  things  which  one  is  better 
for  not  seeing,  just  as  there  are  other  things 
which  one  is  better  for  not  hearing. 


X. 

MR.    MlLLTRUM   OF   CHICAGO 


M, 


.R.  SAXBY'S  check,  accompanied  by  a  brief 
note,  was  sent  to  The  Gotham  Gazette,  and  in 
due  time  reached  Paul  Bedford. 

"  I  said  it  would  pay  you  to  go  out  to  Pelham," 
the  news  editor  remarked,  pleasantly.  "  Saxby 
isn't  a  bad  sort,  though  people  have  lots  to  say 
about  him.  He  must  think  you  smoke  a  pretty 
good  cigar.  Most  of  us  have  to  be  content  with 
a  bulldog  and  plug." 

"  What  am  I  expected  to  do  with  this?  "  Paul 
asked,  as  he  held  the  check  in  his  fingers,  much 
as  one  would  a  dirty  rag. 

"  Cash  it,  of  course.  Buy  a  wagon-load  of 
cigars.  Have  them  piled  up  here  on  these 
shelves.  Invite  us  to  help  ourselves,  and  don't 
be  surprised  if,  in  three  days  or  less,  nothing 
remains  but  the  empty  boxes." 

As  the  news  editor  spoke,  he  took  his  briar 
bulldog  from  its  pigeonhole,  and  looked  at  it 
suggestively. 

"  But,   Mr.   Stewart,   I  can't  use  this  check. 

98 


MR.    MILLTRUM    OF    CHICAGO       99 

Mr.  Saxby  had  no  right  to  send  it  here.  It  looks 
like  a  '  tip '  to  the  waiter,  or  a  nickel  to  the  office- 
boy." 

Paul's  face  had  an  indignant  flush  as  he  laid 
the  check  down  on  his  desk. 

"What  will  you  do  with  it?" 

"  Send  it  back." 

"You  can't  do  that." 

"Why?" 

"  It  would  raise  all  kinds  of  ructions." 

"In  what  way?" 

"  Saxby  would  be  as  mad  as  blazes.  He  owns 
stock  in  this  paper.  Outsiders  don't  know  that; 
but  when  he  wants  anything  done,  we  generally 
hear  from  him." 

"  Mr.  Saxby  owns  stock  in  this  paper  ?  " 

That  Paul  should  be  virtually  in  Mr.  Saxby's 
employment  again  was  a  bitter  surprise  to  him. 

"  Of  course  he  does.  Why  not  ?  These  big 
fellows  on  the  stock  exchange  run  newspapers 
as  they  do  steam  yachts,  or  fast  horses." 

"  Then  you  can  count  me  out.  I  am  through. 
My  relations  with  Mr.  Saxby  are  such  that  I 
cannot  remain  here.  I  am  very  much  obliged 
to  you,  Mr.  Stewart,  but  my  desk  is  at  your 
service." 

Mr.  Stewart  saw  by  the  look  on  Paul's  face 
that  remonstrance  would  be  useless,  so  he  wished 
him  good  fortune,  went  with  him  to  the  door, 
then,  going  back  to  his  desk,  on  which  there 


100       THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

was  barely  writing  room,  he  lighted  his  bulldog 
pipe,  and  smoked  steadily  for  a  minute  or  two. 
But  an  imperative  call  for  "  copy "  demanded 
immediate  attention,  so  he  dismissed  the  Bed- 
ford episode  from  his  mind. 

When  Paul  Bedford  went  to  his  lodgings  that 
evening,  he  found  a  telegram  which  had  been 
delivered  some  hours  before.  As  such  things 
were  more  of  a  novelty  than  in  former  days, 
he  opened  it  with  some  degree  of  nervousness. 

"  Am  expecting-  you  at  Astor  House  this  even- 
ing. Don't  fail. 

"LEWIS    MlLLTRUM." 

He  looked  at  the  telegram  again  and  again, 
wondering  what  it  meant.  Then  he  re-read  the 
address  on  the  envelope  to  be  certain  it  was  in- 
tended for  him.  He  was  positive  the  Misses 
Milltrum  had  not  returned  from  Europe,  a  letter 
from  Bert  Vernon  received  only  the  week  before 
assuring  him  of  that  fact. 

The  more  he  thought  the  matter  over,  the 
deeper  became  his  perplexity,  for  it  never  once 
occurred  to  him  that  the  sender  of  the  telegram 
might  be  related  to  the  Milltrums  of  Chicago. 

He  concluded,  however,  that  the  easiest  way 
to  solve  the  difficulty  was  to  go  to  the  Astor 
House,  so  he  took  a  Broadway  car,  and  ere  long 
was  in  the  well-known  hotel. 


MR.    MILLTRUM    OF    CHICAGO     101 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Milltrum  is  here,"  the  clerk  replied. 
Then  touching  a  gong  on  his  desk,  which  was 
speedily  answered  by  a  hall  boy,  he  said,  "  Take 
this  gentleman  to  73." 

In  response  to  the  hall  boy's  knock,  Paul  heard 
a  clear,  sonorous  "  Come  in !  "  and  from  the 
voice  was  prepared  to  meet  a  bluff,  hearty  West- 
erner, nor  was  he  disappointed. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Bedford.  Very  glad. 
Been  looking  for  you  all  the  evening.  Hope  you 
are  well.  Sit  down,  here's  a  chair.  Take  a  cigar. 
I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you.  Was  just  be- 
ginning to  think  my  telegram  had  gone  astray. 
Have  had  three  or  four  letters  from  my  niece, 
inquiring  about  you.  Left  Chicago  yesterday 
morning,  came  on  specially  to  see  you." 

Mr.  Milltrum  bustled  about  the  room,  talking 
all  the  while,  but  contriving  to  give  Paul  a  keen 
glance  now  and  then,  taking  his  measurement 
far  more  accurately  than  one  would  have  im- 
agined possible. 

"  What  are  you  doing  now  ?  "  he  asked,  after 
they  had  talked  a  few  minutes. 

"  Nothing,"  Paul  answered. 

"Nothing!  How  is  that?"  This  time  he 
shot  a  piercing  look  from  under  his  heavy  eye- 
brows. 

"  It  is  rather  a  long  story,"  Paul  replied. 

"  Too  much  Saxby,  perhaps  ?  "  Mr.  Milltrum 
said,  with  a  meaning  smile. 


102       THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

Paul  looked  keenly  at  Mr.  Milltrum,  but  he 
might  as  well  have  looked  at  a  graven  image, 
so  expressionless  was  his  face. 

"  I  am  no  longer  connected  with  Mr.  Saxby," 
Paul  said,  with  a  degree  of  iron  in  his  voice. 

"  But  you  have  been,  which  may  account  for 
many  things,"  and  again  Mr.  Milltrum's  face 
had  all  the  mobility  of  a  stone  carving. 

"  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  .  .  .  ' 

"  Perhaps  you  are,  but  I'm  not,"  Mr.  Milltrum 
said,  in  his  quick,  nervous  fashion.  "  But  I  didn't 
come  all  the  way  from  Chicago  to  discuss  Saxby. 
I  have  better  business  on  hand.  I  want  you  to 
come  in  with  us.  We  have  just  the  place  for 
you.  Of  course,  we're  not  so  all-fired  smart  as 
the  people  of  this  town,  still  everybody  in  Chi- 
cago isn't  a  fool.  This  place  is  all  very  well  for 
men  who  have  made  their  pile,  any  idiot  can  make 
money  when  he  has  money,  but  when  a  young 
fellow  has  only  his  wits,  and  out  of  them  must 
get  a  living,  the  sooner  he  leaves  New  York  the 
better.  New  York  is  a  first-rate  place  in  which 
to  go  bankrupt;  it's  a  kind  of  fashion  here,  and 
no  one  seems  to  mind  it,  but  if  you  want  to  get 
a  start,  come  to  Chicago  with  me.  My  nieces 
are  set  on  it,  and,  for  that  matter,  so  am  I.  What's 
to  hinder  you  taking  a  trial  trip,  at  any  rate? 
Meet  me  here  to-morrow  at  noon;  we  can  lunch 
together,  and  then  get  the  Limited,  which  leaves 
at  two.  So  good  night.  Glad  to  have  met  you, 


MR.    MILLTRUM    OF    CHICAGO     103 

and  more  glad  you  are  coming  with  me  to  Chi- 
cago." 

In  his  hearty,  cordial  way,  Mr.  Milltrum  ar- 
ranged everything,  hardly  giving  Paul  time  to 
suggest  a  difficulty  or  frame  a  refusal,  so  that 
in  less  than  an  hour  from  his  entering  the  Astor 
House,  he  was  under  engagement  with  the  Mill- 
trum Bros,  of  Chicago. 

Next  morning  a  district  messenger  was  at 
the  house  of  Mrs.  Figgis,  with  a  note  for  Paul. 
It  was  from  Mr.  Milltrum: 

"  DEAR  MR.  BEDFORD  :  —  Your  spare  money 
is,  no  doubt,  in  the  Savings  Bank."  Here  Paul 
smiled  grimly.  "  Let  it  stay  there,  and  use  the 
enclosed  for  such  fittings  as  may  be  necessary. 
There  are,  though,  two  or  three  little  stores  in 
Chicago  where  odd  fixings  can  be  bought  in  case 
you  happen  to  forget  anything. 

"  Yours  hastily, 

"  LEWIS  MILLTRUM." 

Paul  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  angry  or 
pleased.  The  five  twenty-dollar  bills  which  Mr. 
Milltrum  had  enclosed  were  badly  needed,  more, 
indeed,  than  he  was  willing  to  admit,  but  the 
Virginian  blood  had  not  cooled  any  during  the 
past  months;  if  anything,  it  had  grown  hotter, 
for  pride  and  poverty  are  twins,  who  love  each 
other  most  strangely.  But  Virginian  blood, 


104      THE    MYSTERY   OF   MIRIAM 

along  with  its  other  good  qualities,  has  a  fair 
measure  of  sturdy  common  sense,  so  Paul  ac- 
cepted the  money  in  the  spirit  Mr.  Milltrum  had 
sent  it.  Hence  he  was  able  to  repossess  himself 
of  his  mother's  trinkets,  his  father's  watch,  and 
also  make  sundry  purchases  for  his  own  per- 
sonal comfort. 

"  Bless  my  soul,  man,  don't  mention  it !  "  Mr. 
Milltrum  said,  when  Paul  attempted  to  refer  to 
the  matter.  "  Why  should  you  disturb  your 
money  in  the  Savings  Bank?  It  couldn't  be  in 
a  better  place.  Ikeep  some  money  there  myself. 
Have  ever  since  I  was  a  boy.  Besides,  you  may 
not  care  to  stay  in  Chicago.  This  is  only  a  trial 
trip." 

His  keen  eyes  had  not  failed  to  notice  a  modest 
gold  chain  with  a  neat  charm,  and  an  old-fash- 
ioned, massive  gold  watch,  which  he  had  not  seen 
the  night  before,  neither  did  he  overlook  certain 
articles  of  apparel  that  were  unquestionably  new. 

Mr.  Milltrum,  according  to  Paul's  estimate, 
was  not  far  from  sixty,  but  so  hale  and  vigorous 
that  the  years  only  added  to  his  strength  as 
growth  to  a  tree.  He  talked  earnestly,  ate  heart- 
ily, smoked  vigorously  nearly  all  the  way  to 
Chicago;  nor  was  his  sleep  that  still,  exquisite 
silence  which  makes  the  night  one  of  delicious 
repose.  None  of  the  passengers,  however, 
cherished  any  malice,  for  in  the  morning,  though 
he  was  up  early  and  his  talk  with  the  porter 


MR.    MILLTRUM    OF    CHICAGO     105 

was  a  housetop  affair,  rousing  some  dullards, 
who  would  fain  have  slept  longer,  his  voice  had 
so  much  of  good  cheer  in  it,  and  he  diffused  such 
a  healthful,  wholesome  feeling  through  the  car, 
that  he  was  more  than  forgiven  for  his  exertions 
during  the  night. 

On  reaching  Chicago,  Mr.  Milltrum  went  to 
the  "  Auditorium,"  a  hotel  which  surprised  Paul, 
who  thought  that  such  buildings  were  only  pos- 
sible in  New  York. 

"  Yes,  I  live  here,"  he  said  to  Paul,  as  they 
were  chatting  in  his  apartment,  one  of  the  most 
desirable  in  the  hotel,  fronting  on  the  avenue, 
and  with  a  splendid  view  of  the  lake.  "  I'm  a 
bachelor,  you  know,  and  I  can  have  my  boots 
blacked  here,  and  get  a  morning  paper  without 
much  trouble.  As  I  said,  Chicago,  of  course, 
isn't  New  York,  but  when  one  makes  up  his 
mind  to  it,  he  can  put  up  with  most  anything." 

The  whimsical  air  with  which  Mr.  Milltrum 
said  this  immensely  amused  Paul.  He  was  be- 
ginning to  enjoy  Mr.  Milltrum,  whose  sly  pokes 
at  New  York  and  its  pretensions  were  so  good- 
natured  that  no  one  could  be  offended  at  them. 

The  next  day  Paul  was  taken  to  the  offices  of 
Milltrum  Bros.,  where  he  received  marked  con- 
sideration. 

"  Pooh !  No  gratitude  about  it.  We  are  not 
in  the  philanthropy  business.  Peggy,  that's  my 
niece,  the  one  that's  older  than  the  younger  one, 


106      THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

—  I  daren't  put  it  any  other  way,  or  they  would 
each  give  me  a  hiding,  —  wrote  me  about  you. 
Maud,  that's  the  other  one,  she  also  wrote  me 
about  you.  And  so  here  you  are.  You  think 
five  thousand  dollars  a  year  is  too  much  to  start 
on?  Well,  I  don't.  And  don't  fret,  for  you'll 
earn  every  cent  of  it.  We  work  hard  here,  young 
man.  See  if  we  don't." 

Paul  little  thought,  when  helping  the  Misses 
Milltrum  into  one  of  the  Zidonia's  boats,  giving 
them  his  ulster,  and  contriving  as  best  he  could 
to  make  them  comfortable,  that  he  was  casting 
bread  upon  the  waters,  which  would  return  in 
such  form  as  this.  But  like  a  sensible  fellow, 
he  took  the  goods  the  gods  so  generously  pro- 
vided, and  soon  was  comfortably  installed  as 
private  secretary  to  Mr.  Milltrum. 

Through  the  good  offices  of  Clarence  Fillmore, 
Paul  and  Miriam  frequently  heard  from  each 
other,  and  though  separated  by  several  hundred 
miles,  in  heart  they  were  nearer  than  ever  be- 
fore. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Paul,  on  being  so  pleas- 
antly situated,  and  with  such  a  good  beginning 
in  your  new  business.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
glad  I  am.  Perhaps  there  is  a  little  selfishness 
in  my  gladness,  for  I  imagine  that  one  of  these 
days  you  will  be  sending  for  *  somebody '  who 
would  like  to  make  a  nice  long  visit  in  Chicago ! 


MR.    MILLTRUM    OF    CHICAGO     107 

Indeed,  I  think  the  aforesaid  '  somebody  '  would 
not  object  to  living  in  Chicago!  I  was  there 
during  the  Exposition,  and  stopped  at  the  '  Audi- 
torium,' so  I  can  easily  locate  you.  Every  even- 
ing after  dinner,  instead  of  going  to  the  piano 
and  playing  over  some  of  your  favorites,  I  take 
a  trip  westward,  usually  stopping  off  at  Chicago, 
and  visiting  with  you!  I  leave  my  insignificant 
body  here  to  do  the  proprieties,  winding  up  its 
talking-machine  so  that  it  can  answer  the  usual 
round  of  questions ;  and  sometimes  I  so  arrange 
my  hands  that  they  hold  a  book,  then  droop  my 
eyes  as  to  seem  intent  on  the  page,  but  the  real 
me,  the  me  who  loves  you,  does  not  remain  in 
Pelham,  oh,  no!  Have  you  not  felt  me  steal 
into  that  little  parlor  of  yours,  sit  down  quietly 
somewhere  near  you,  and  just  delight  myself  by 
looking  at  your  dear  face?  In  the  daytime  you 
are  busy,  so  I  don't  trouble  you  more  than  I  can 
help,  but  in  the  evening,  when  I  know  you  are 
free  from  business,  I  get  into  my  air-ship,  and 
in  two  seconds,  one  if  I  am  not  delayed,  I  am 
with  you.  But  what  a  lot  of  nonsense  I  am 
writing!  Yet  is  it  nonsense?  If  the  spirit  can 
leave  the  body  during  sleep,  why  not  at  other 
times?  If  an  overwhelming  emotion  can  so 
dominate  the  body  as  to  make  it  insensible  to 
fatigue  or  pain,  why  cannot  love,  to  whom  all 
other  emotions  are  but  as  slaves  to  the  genii  of 
Aladdin's  lamp,  break  through  the  body  when 


108      THE    MYSTERY   OF   MIRIAM 

it  pleases  and  hold  communion  with  a  love  that 
is  kindred  to  its  own? 

"  Dear,  dear,  when  will  this  pen  of  mine  learn 
sense!  I  can  see  you  smile,  Paul,  yes,  I  can; 
don't  deny  it,  or,  when  '  somebody  '  comes  to  Chi- 
cago, sackcloth  and  ashes  will  be  your  portion. 
Not  broadcloth  and  cigar  ashes  either,  but  the 
real  thing. 

"  Doctor  Barrington  thinks  I  am  not  looking 
well!  As  my  gallant  knight,  I  expect  you  to 
avenge  this  terrible  affront.  He  wants  mamma 
to  take  me  to  the  Adirondacks  in  May,  but 
mamma  thinks  a  trip  to  Europe  will  do  just  as 
well.  I  would  rather  go  to  Chicago! 

"  Papa  has  been  South  for  some  weeks.  That 
may  explain  his  failure  to  reply  to  your  letter. 
It  is  now  almost  noon.  Good-by.  Will  see  you 
this  evening!  MIRIAM." 

When  Mr.  Saxby  returned  from  the  South, 
after  an  extended  business  trip,  he  found  Paul's 
letter  awaiting  him  at  Pelham.  Having  no  idea 
of  the  young  man's  whereabouts,  though  the 
handwriting  seemed  familiar,  he  opened  it  with- 
out once  suspecting  who  the  writer  might  be. 

"  I  am  now  in  a  position  to  renew  the  request 
made  some  months  since,  and  hope  most  sin- 
cerely that  you  will  give  me  the  privilege  of  a 
hearing.  It  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  become 
associated  with  Milltrum  Bros,  of  this  city." 


MR.    MILLTRUM    OF    CHICAGO     109 

Mr.  Saxby  did  not  finish  the  letter,  contenting 
himself  with  an  angry  glance  at  the  signature. 

"  Damn  that  fellow,"  he  muttered,  "  and  with 
the  Milltrums!  I  wish  now  he  had  gone  to 
Hongkong.  But  I  will  crush  him  yet,  and  the 
Milltrums  with  him,  no  matter  what  it  costs." 

Mr.  Saxby's  face  was  not  a  pleasant  study  at 
that  moment.  Every  foul  passion  of  which  a 
proud,  vindictive  nature  was  capable  showed 
itself  in  the  fierce  gleam  of  his  eye,  the  cruel  set 
of  his  mouth,  the  merciless  expression  of  his 
features,  and  clinching  his  fist,  he  struck  the 
library  table  such  a  heavy  blow  that  the  bronze 
inkstand,  a  Christmas  gift  from  Miriam,  rattled 
under  the  shock. 

"  Damn  him !  Damn  him !  "  he  almost  shouted 
again  and  again,  "  and  damn  the  Milltrums !  I 
had  a  heavy  enough  score  to  settle  with  them 
before  this,  but  by  Heaven !  I'll  —  " 

At  dinner  Mr.  Saxby  was  very  quiet,  but  it 
was  not  the  quiet  of  fatigue  or  restfulness,  the 
intensity  of  it  forbade  any  such  supposition. 

"  Did  you  know  anything  of  this  ?  "  he  asked 
Miriam,  when  they  had  gone  to  the  library  for 
their  coffee,  and  the  servants  had  retired.  As 
he  spoke  he  held  out  Paul  Bedford's  letter. 

"  What  is  it?  "  Miriam  asked  in  return,  though 
she  saw  the  handwriting  now  so  familiar  to  her. 

"  This  letter  from  that  Bedford  fellow." 

"  You  refer  to  Mr.  Bedford,  who  spent  part 


110      THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

of  last  winter  here  ?  "  Miriam  asked,  in  clear, 
bell-li'ke  tones,  her  eyes  shining,  and  her  face 
as  though  of  white  marble. 

"  Yes,  Bedford,  who  did  typewriting  for  me, 
and  odd  jobs  about  the  office." 

"  Who  saved  your  life  when  you  were  attacked 
by  burglars,  and  served  you  like  a  slave  all  the 
weeks  that  you  were  helpless?" 

Mrs.  Saxby  looked  aghast  as  Miriam  spoke, 
her  voice  even  more  vibrant  than  before. 

"  For  which  he  was  paid,"  Mr.  Saxby  coarsely 
responded.  "  Well  paid,  too." 

"  Yes,  by  being  dismissed  from  your  service. 
Turned  out  on  a  moment's  notice.  Then  driven 
from  New  York  as  though  he  were  a  criminal." 

How  each  word  rang  out ! 

"  And  finally  secured  employment  in  the  office 
of  my  sworn  enemy,  a  man  who  has  left  no  stone 
unturned  by  which  he  might  compass  my  down- 
fall. To  this  man  Mr.  Bedford  "  —  the  sneer 
with  which  Mr.  Saxby  accompanied  his  "  Mr. 
Bedford  "  was  a  fine  piece  of  work  —  "  has  gone, 
and  because  he  knows,  or  thinks  he  knows,  some- 
thing of  my  business,  he  has  prevailed  upon 
Milltrum  of  Chicago  to  give  him  a  place  in  his 
office.  Now  he  thinks  he  can  dictate  terms  to 
me,  and  so  he  writes  proposing  marriage  with 
you.  He  is  an  infamous  scoundrel,  a  treacherous 
hound,  and  —  " 

"  The  man  whom  I  have  promised  to  marry," 


MR.  MILLTRUM  OF  CHICAGO      111 

Miriam  said,  solemnly,  rising  from  her  chair, 
and  standing  proudly  before  her  father. 

"  I  would  rather  see  you  dead  than  the  wife 
of  Paul  Bedford,"  Mr.  Saxby  replied,  his  face 
white  with  passion. 

'  You  may,  perhaps,  have  your  wish,  for  I 
will  never  leave  home  without  your  consent.  Of 
that  you  may  be  fully  assured.  But  remember, 
nothing  can  ever  weaken  my  love  for  Paul  Bed- 
ford. Now  please  excuse  me,  I  would  like  to 
retire  to  my  own  room." 

Without  waiting  to  hear  her  father's  reply, 
Miriam  walked  slowly  across  the  library,  gently 
opened  the  door,  and  passed  out,  leaving  Mr. 
Saxby  with  Paul  Bedford's  letter  in  his  hands. 


XL 

MR.  SAXBY  BECOMES  ANXIOUS 

"NT 

1  i  O,  I  don't  know  what  the  trouble  is. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  Mrs.  Saxby,  it  appears 
as  if  Miriam  had  received  some  terrible  shock. 
I  know,  of  course,  that  such  a  thing  is  impos- 
sible, yet  the  symptoms  all  point  in  that  direc- 
tion. Suppose  I  ask  Doctor  Voxborough  to 
meet  me  here  to-morrow.  I  can  arrange  it  so 
that  Miriam  won't  suspect  anything.  For  my 
own  sake  as  well  as  yours  I  would  like  to  consult 
with  Doctor  Voxborough." 

Doctor  Barrington's  face  was  clouded  with 
anxiety  as  he  spoke  to  Mrs.  Saxby,  who  had  been 
waiting  for  him  in  the  reception-room.  For  some 
days  Doctor  Barrington  had  been  in  attendance 
on  Miriam,  and  each  visit  only  added  to  his 
perplexity. 

"  You  don't  mean  that  Miriam's  case  is  really 
serious  ?  "  Mrs.  Saxby  asked,  earnestly. 

"  I  cannot  say  at  this  moment  exactly  how 
serious  it  is,  but  I  would  like  to  call  in  Doctor 
Voxborough."  There  was  a  gravity  in  Doctor 
112 


MR.    SAXBY    BECOMES    ANXIOUS    113 

Barrington's  manner,  which  could  not  escape 
Mrs.  Saxby. 

"  Wouldn't  a  change  of  air,  a  trip  to  Old  Point 
Comfort,  or  perhaps  to  the  South  of  France  make 
her  all  right  again  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  she  could  now  bear 
such  a  journey.  Miriam  has  been  running  down 
for  some  time.  You  may  remember  my  sug- 
gesting several  weeks  ago  that  you  arrange  for 
a  visit  to  the  Adirondacks  at  the  first  opportu- 
nity, which,  perhaps,  would  have  been  the  best 
thing  to  be  done  at  that  time.  But  let  us  have 
Doctor  Voxborough's  opinion." 

"  Of  course,  if  that  is  your  wish,  but  we  have 
every  confidence  in  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Saxby,  but  in  a  case  so 
serious  as  this,  I  would  feel  relieved  if  Doctor 
Voxborough  could  give  me  the  benefit  of  his 
advice." 

The  next  day  Doctor  Voxborough,  an  eminent 
specialist  from  New  York,  went  with  Doctor 
Barrington  to  Miriam's  room,  but  the  visit  was 
so  managed  that  Miriam  never  once  suspected 
its  real  intent. 

"  I  wish  you  could  persuade  him,  Doctor  Vox- 
borough,  to  give  me  a  cure  for  laziness,"  Miriam 
said,  pleasantly,  then  smiling  at  Doctor  Barring- 
ton,  who  was  counting  her  pulse. 

"  You  should  say  rather  '  Physician,  heal  thy- 
self,' for  that  is  his  own  trouble,  and  one  of  many 


114      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

years  standing,"  Doctor  Voxborough  replied, 
coming  over  to  the  couch  on  which  Miriam 
was  lying. 

"  I  am  not  as  lazy  as  Doctor  Voxborough  — 
thinks  I  am,"  Doctor  Barrington  suggestively 
remarked,  making  his  pause  very  effective. 

So  they  chatted  and  talked,  exchanging  sallies 
of  wit  and  playful  humor,  making  their  visit 
one  of  real  pleasure  to  Miriam,  who  brightened 
up,  and  seemed  more  like  herself  than  for  some 
weeks.  But  the  keen,  practised  eyes  of  Doctor 
Voxborough  were  busy  all  the  while.  On  one 
pretence  and  another  he  got  Miriam  to  talk  about 
herself,  humorously  mostly,  and  making  light 
of  her  sickness,  but  Doctor  Voxborough  never 
once  lost  sight  of  the  purpose  he  had  in  view. 

"  I  think  you  might  allow  an  old  gentleman 
the  pleasure  of  holding  your  hand  for  a  minute," 
he  said,  smilingly,  taking  the  place  vacated  by 
Doctor  Barrington,  who  had  gone  to  a  table 
ostensibly  to  write  a  prescription. 

Miriam  little  thought  how  much  the  tips  of 
his  fingers  could  read  as  they  were  placed  gently 
on  her  wrist. 

Mrs.  Saxby  was  again  in  the  reception-room, 
but  Doctor  Voxborough  had  very  little  to  say, 
allowing  Doctor  Barrington,  as  the  family  phy- 
sician, to  do  most  of  the  talking.  But  Doctor 
Voxborough  rarely  had  much  to  say.  Like  most 
great  physicians,  he  was  not  a  fluent  talker,  but 


MR.    SAXBY    BECOMES    ANXIOUS    115 

what  he  lacked  in  speech  he  atoned  for  in  mar- 
vellous skill.  At  lunch  with  Doctor  Harrington 
he  spoke  with  some  freedom. 

"  A  girl  whose  nervous  conditions  are  so 
exquisitely  balanced  as  those  of  Miss  Saxby 
requires  treatment  which  can  neither  be  written 
nor  defined.  You  are,  of  course,  intimate  in 
the  Saxby  home  ?  " 

"  Very,  have  been  for  years.  I  attended  Mrs. 
Saxby  when  Miriam  was  born." 

As  Doctor  Barrington  spoke  he  looked  in- 
quiringly at  Doctor  Voxborough. 

"  Have  you  reason  to  think  that  there  is  trou- 
ble of  any  kind  ?  " 

"  Never  heard  of  any,  that  is,  anything  seri- 
ous." 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?  Miss  Saxby,  even 
at  best,  is  naturally  most  sensitive,  and  would 
keenly  feel  things  which  others  would  toss 
aside." 

"  Some  months  ago  there  was  an  attempted 
burglary  —  " 

"  Shock  number  one,"  Doctor  Voxborough 
remarked,  quietly. 

"  And  in  the  struggle  Mr.  Saxby  received  a 
severe  wound." 

"  Shock  number  two." 

"  During  the  months  that  Mr.  Saxby  was  con- 
fined to  his  room,  a  young  man  from  the  office, 
a  mighty  handsome  fellow,  Bedford  by  name, 


116      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

acted  as  Mr.  Saxby's  secretary,  coming  to  the 
house  every  evening,  and  naturally  saw  a  great 
deal  of  Miss  Saxby.  There  was  some  little  gossip 
of  course." 

"  Shock  number  three." 

"  When  Mr.  Saxby  got  better,  whether  he 
suspected  anything  or  not  I  cannot  say,  but  Bed- 
ford received  an  appointment  at  Hongkong." 

"  Shock  number  four." 

"  Since  then  it  has  been  whispered  that  Bed- 
ford did  not  go  to  Hongkong,  Mr.  Saxby  having 
dismissed  him  in  London." 

"  Shock  number  five." 

"You  infer  then  —  " 

"  That  Miss  Saxby  is  in  a  bad  way,  and  if  you 
can  save  her  it  will  be  little  short  of  a  miracle. 
Your  treatment,  thus  far,  has  my  unqualified 
approval,  but  I  am  afraid  you  have  a  very  serious 
case  on  your  hands." 

Doctor  Barrington  went  to  the  station  with 
Doctor  Voxborough,  who  promised  to  come  out 
again  the  following  week. 

"  From  what  Doctor  Barrington  said  this 
morning  I  am  beginning  to  be  anxious  about 
Miriam,"  Mrs.  Saxby  said  to  her  husband  when 
he  returned  from  New  York. 

"  Was  he  speaking  for  himself  or  for  Doctor 
Voxborough  ?  "  Mr.  Saxby  asked,  sharply. 

"  Both,  I  am  afraid,"  Mrs.  Saxby  replied,  with 
some  feeling. 


MR.    SAXBY    BECOMES    ANXIOUS    117 

"  Did  they  give  you  any  intimation  of  what 
really  ailed  Miriam  ?  " 

Mr.  Saxby,  though  loving  Miriam  with  a 
passion  little  short  of  idolatry,  was  so  enraged 
at  her  course  with  regard  to  Paul  Bedford,  that 
since  the  scene  in  the  library,  when  she  so  fear- 
lessly avowed  her  love  for  Paul,  he  treated  her 
with  marked  disfavor.  And  so  blinded  was  he 
by  anger  and  prejudice  that  he  refused  to  believe 
her  illness  anything  but  chagrin  and  disappoint- 
ment, the  result  of  his  refusal  to  give  a  favorable 
reply  to  Paul  Bedford's  letter. 

She  was  indignant,  naturally  so,  at  his  treat- 
ment of  Paul.  He  could  at  least  have  replied 
courteously,  but  this  he  failed  to  do,  for  he  took 
Paul's  letter  and  wrote  at  the  foot  of  the  page: 

"  This  was  opened  by  mistake,  thinking  it  was 
from  a  correspondent  in  Chicago.  I  do  not  wish 
to  hear  from  you  again." 

So  Paul  got  his  letter  back,  envelope  and  all, 
whereupon  he  vowed  that  the  next  time  he  wrote 
to  Mr.  Saxby,  Methuselah  in  point  of  age  would 
be  a  mere  infant  as  compared  with  him.  But 
Paul  didn't  say  anything  of  this  to  Miriam.  It 
was  Mr.  Saxby  himself  who  informed  her  of  it. 

Perhaps  Mr.  Saxby  would  not  have  acted  so 
outrageously  were  it  not  that  Mr.  Milltrum  had 
out-manoeuvred  him  in  a  scheme  to  obtain  pos- 
session of  a  Southern  railroad  upon  which  his 
eyes  had  rested  covetously  for  some  time.  For 


118      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

this  Mr.  Saxby  blamed  Paul,  as  the  negotiations 
were  in  progress  while  he  was  acting  as  his  secre- 
tary. Paul,  however,  had  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  it,  for  there  were  some  matters  which 
Mr.  Milltrum  shared  with  no  one,  working  them 
out  in  his  own  way.  But  this  Mr.  Saxby  did  not 
know;  hence  he  charged  Paul  with  treachery, 
and  regarded  him  as  the  direct  agent  of  Mr. 
Milltrum  in  securing  this  most  desirable  prop- 
erty. 

It  is  true  that  as  the  weeks  went  on,  and  Paul 
saw  with  what  persistence  Mr.  Milltrum  thwarted 
Mr.  Saxby  in  every  possible  way,  he  was  tempted 
more  than  once  to  give  up  his  position.  It  seemed 
like  disloyalty  to  Miriam  to  be  in  the  service  of 
one  who  so  relentlessly  pursued  her  father.  And 
many  times  he  wished,  when  he  knew  of  some 
big  deal  which  was  in  progress,  that  he  could 
have  warned  Mr.  Saxby.  Every  fibre  of  Paul's 
manhood  was  tested  to  its  full  strength  again  and 
again.  Fidelity  to  Mr.  Milltrum  seemed  infi- 
delity to  Miriam.  Then,  on  the  other  hand,  he 
was  under  profound  obligations  to  Mr.  Milltrum, 
who  had  treated  him  with  such  generosity.  Not 
once,  and  for  this  Paul  was  profoundly  grateful, 
had  Mr.  Milltrum  questioned  him  concerning  Mr. 
Saxby,  or  his  relations  with  Miriam.  Paul  some- 
times wondered  at  this;  but  Mr.  Milltrum, 
through  his  nieces,  knew  all  about  Paul's  love- 
affairs,  and  though  an  old  bachelor,  he  had  not 


MR.    SAXBY    BECOMES    ANXIOUS    119 

quite  forgotten  a  romance  of  his  own  early  man- 
hood. 

This  may  have  been  the  reason  why  he  never 
sought  Paul's  assistance  in  his  battles  with  Mr. 
Saxby,  though  there  were  times  when  such  as- 
sistance, had  Paul  been  free  to  give  it,  would 
have  been  of  much  value  to  him. 

It  is  very  easy  to  see  that  one  defeat  after 
another,  and  some  of  them  costly,  made  Mr. 
Saxby  still  more  bitter  against  Paul,  for  he  in- 
variably associated  him  with  every  move  of  Mr. 
Milltrum.  And  it  is  also  easy  to  see  why  he  was 
angry  and  indignant  with  Miriam,  treating  her 
with  a  sternness  that  was  little  short  of  cruelty. 

But  Mrs.  Saxby's  statement,  based  on  the 
report  of  Doctor  Barrington,  alarmed  him.  He 
knew  that  Doctor  Barrington  would  not  have 
called  in  such  an  eminent  physician  as  Doctor 
Voxborough  without  some  reason  for  it.  He 
had  been  troubled  more  or  less  during  the  day, 
and  came  home  earlier  than  usual  that  he  might 
learn  the  result  of  the  consultation. 

As  Miriam  was  not  able  to  come  down  to 
dinner,  he  went  to  her  room  early  in  the  even- 
ing, something  he  had  not  done  since  receiving 
Paul  Bedford's  letter.  She  smiled  gratefully  as 
he  went  in,  and  though  there  was  not  a  sign 
of  reproach  on  her  face,  somehow  he  felt  ashamed 
of  his  harshness,  and  resolved  to  atone  for  it  if 
it  were  possible. 


120      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Well,  my  little  girl,  how  do  you  think  you 
are?  "  he  asked,  tenderly,  after  he  had  bent  over 
the  couch,  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  told  Doctor  Barrington  I  was  merely  lazy," 
she  answered,  looking  up  into  his  face  as  he  sat 
beside  the  couch,  meantime  holding  his  hand  in 
hers. 

"  Which  he  believed,  of  course,  for  he  knows 
you  pretty  well." 

Mr.  Saxby  noticed  a  marked  change  in  Miriam ; 
her  face  was  thinner,  her  cheeks  had  a  feverish 
flush,  her  eyes  seemed  to  have  an  unnatural  light, 
her  voice,  while  smooth  and  distinct,  was  weak, 
and  her  breath  caught  at  times  as  though  she 
were  in  pain. 

"  I  asked  him  to  prescribe  for  it,"  she  said, 
flashing  at  her  father  one  of  her  old-time  roguish 
glances,  "  but  Doctor  Voxborough  suggested 
that  Doctor  Barrington  was  afflicted  with  the 
same  trouble." 

"  So  you  didn't  get  the  prescription  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  could  do  anything  for  you?" 

"  You  can.  I  wish  you  would  take  me  in  your 
arms,  and  let  me  rest  a  little  while.  I  am  tired 
lying  here." 

Mr.  Saxby  took  her  up  from  the  couch,  and 
going  over  to  a  big  armchair  sat  down,  holding 
her  in  his  arms,  as  he  had  often  done  when  she 
was  a  little  girl. 


MR.    SAXBY    BECOMES    ANXIOUS    121 

"  It  is  so  nice  to  be  back  here  again,"  she  mur- 
mured, softly,  nestling  her  head  upon  his  breast, 
then  giving  a  happy  little  sigh. 

For  reply,  Mr.  Saxby  drew  her  closely  to  him, 
then  bent  down  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  You  have  been  a  very  good  papa  to  me," 
she  whispered,  "  and  I  am  so  sorry  at  having 
vexed  or  distressed  you."  Her  breath  caught 
as  she  finished  the  sentence  ending  in  a  little 
sob. 

"  Please  don't  speak  of  these  things  now,"  he 
said,  huskily. 

"  But,  papa,  I  must  speak  of  them,  and  now 
that  we  are  alone  let  me  tell  you  that  I  love  you 
as  dearly  as  I  ever  did;  and  you  will  please  for- 
give me  for  having  hurt  you." 

"  Miriam,  darling,  there  is  nothing  to  forgive. 
You  are  only  distressing  yourself." 

"  Yes,  papa,  there  is  something  to  forgive. 
You  remember  how  I  spoke  about  Paul.  That 
was  very  wrong  of  me,  but  I  was  nervous  and 
angry,  and  I  have  been  so  sorry  ever  since.  I 
cried  all  that  night.  But,  papa,  I  can't  help  lov- 
ing Paul.  Don't  take  your  arms  away,  please. 
And  he  is  not  to  blame.  I  know  you  think  he 
is,  but  indeed  he  is  not.  So  I  want  you  to  for- 
give him." 

"  But,  Miriam,  only  think  of  what  you  are 
asking !  " 

"  Yes,  papa,  I  know.     But  you  are  a  great, 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

strong,  rich  man,  and  he  is  a  poor  boy,  who  has 
to  make  his  way  in  the  world.  I  told  you  I  would 
never  leave  you  without  your  consent,  so  I  wish 
you  would  forgive  Paul.  I  am  not  well,  papa. 
Sometimes  I  think  that  I  won't  get  better." 

"Hush,  Miriam,  hush!" 

"  Since  I  have  been  lying  here,  and  so  much 
alone  every  day,  I  have  had  time  to  think  over 
lots  of  things.  Please  remember,  papa,  that  I 
am  not  ungrateful.  You  have  been  very  kind 
to  me.  But  I  don't  want  a  single  cloud  to  rest 
on  either  your  heart  or  mine.  And  if  anything 
happens  to  me,  papa,  I  want  you  to  be  good  to 
Paul.  Won't  you,  please  ?  " 

Something  in  Miriam's  voice  filled  Mr.  Saxby 
with  dread.  In  simplicity  and  artlessness  she 
had  gone  back  to  her  early  girlhood,  and  she 
used  phrases  and  expressions  which  he  remem- 
bered her  using  years  before ;  but  she  spoke  with 
a  solemnity  as  of  a  distant  bell  tolling  at  mid- 
night. Her  voice  had  a  far-away  sound.  She 
seemed  as  if  leaving  him.  There  were  no  tears 
in  her  eyes,  but  there  was  something  far  deeper 
than  tears  in  her  words. 

Before  he  could  reply,  Mrs.  Saxby,  who  had 
been  summoned  to  meet  some  callers,  special 
friends  of  Miriam,  who  had  just  heard  of  her 
sickness,  returned  to  the  room,  so  nothing  more 
was  said. 

"  Come  again  to-morrow  evening,  you  dear 


MR.    SAXBY    BECOMES    ANXIOUS    123 

old  papa,"  Miriam  said,  fondly,  as  Mr.  Saxby 
placed  her  again  on  the  couch. 

It  was  late,  very  late  that  night  when  Mr. 
Saxby  retired.  After  leaving  Miriam's  room 
he  went  to  the  library,  remaining  there  for  some 
hours.  Next  morning  his  face  looked  drawn 
and  anxious,  and  on  reaching  the  city,  instead 
of  going  direct  to  his  office,  he  went  to  Doctor 
Voxborough,  where  he  stayed  over  an  hour. 
Business  had  little  interest  for  Mr.  Saxby  that 
day.  Mr.  Crewe  could  hardly  get  a  word  from 
him.  Very  curtly  he  told  Mr.  Walters  not  to 
disturb  him  with  matters  of  correspondence. 
He  went  out  to  lunch  because  he  had  an  appoint- 
ment of  some  importance,  but  after  disposing 
of  the  matter  which  the  appointment  involved, 
he  excused  himself,  and  took  an  early  afternoon 
train  for  home. 


A, 


XII. 
A  WEDDING 


>FTER  Doctor  Voxborough  had  made  his 
second  visit  to  Pelham,  he  frankly  told  Doctor 
Barrington  nothing  could  save  Miriam.  He 
said  she  was  wasting  away,  and  not  slowly 
either,  and  only  with  extreme  care  could  her 
life  be  prolonged  through  the  summer. 

This  was  sad  news  for  Doctor  Barrington, 
though  he  had  feared  from  Doctor  Voxborough's 
opinion  at  their  first  consultation  that  he  would 
pronounce  Miriam's  case  to  be  hopeless.  But 
how  much  more  sad  was  it  for  Mrs.  Saxby! 
At  first  she  would  not  believe  it,  and  with  a  voice 
almost  angry  in  its  tone,  and  eyes  flashing  in- 
dignantly, she  told  him  that  such  a  thing  could 
not  be.  But  when  she  saw  Doctor  Barrington's 
lips  tremble,  and  then  his  face  turned  away  to  hide 
the  tears  that  were  rolling  down  his  cheeks,  her 
anger  died  away,  and  she  sobbed  as  though  her 
heart  would  break.  She  forgot  everything  save 
the  one  terrible  fact  that  Miriam  —  the  babe  who 
had  cuddled  in  her  arms,  the  child  whose  prattle 

124 


A    WEDDING  125 

had  been  such  a  delight,  the  girl  whose  merry 
voice  had  filled  the  home  with  gladness,  the 
daughter  who  had  grown  up  into  glorious  woman- 
hood —  was  about  to  leave  her,  and  that  soon 
nothing  would  remain  but  a  tender  memory. 

"  Oh,  Doctor  Barrington,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I 
can't  let  her  go.  She  must  stay  here  with  me. 
Oh,  dear  God,  won't  you  spare  my  Miriam! 
Please,  doctor,  can't  you  think  of  something 
that  would  help  her.  Oh,  Miriam !  Miriam !  " 

Doctor  Barrington  tried  to  comfort  her,  but 
his  voice  quivered  and  broke,  and  it  was  with 
a  sad  face  that  he  entered  his  carriage  and  drove 
away.  When  he  got  to  the  gate,  he  looked  up 
to  the  window  at  which  Miriam  usually  sat  in 
her  room,  and  he  saw  her  wave  her  hand  to  him, 
—  a  poor,  wasted  hand  it  was,  —  and  though 
he  smiled  in  reply,  yet  it  was  such  a  tender,  piti- 
ful smile  that  Miriam  wondered  at  it. 

Mr.  Saxby  received  the  verdict  of  Doctor 
Voxborough  in  mute,  helpless  despair.  He  was 
too  terribly  stricken  even  to  open  his  lips.  He 
asked  no  questions ;  he  made  no  appeal ;  no  tear 
dimmed  his  eye,  no  quiver  moved  his  lips.  He 
stood  listening  to  Doctor  Barrington  as  a  man 
carved  in  stone,  but  over  that  stone  face  there 
passed  a  cloud,  and  behind  that  cloud  the  sun 
went  down,  never  to  rise  again. 

After  Doctor  Barrington  had  gone,  he  sat 
down  in  the  same  chair  in  which  Miriam  had 


126      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

sat  the  last  night  she  was  in  the  library.  How 
well  he  remembered  that  night!  Would  not  the 
memory  of  it  forever  leave  its  scar  upon  his 
soul?  That  night  he  had  taunted  her,  flung 
the  name  of  Paul  Bedford  in  her  face,  gloried 
in  having  sent  back  his  letter  with  an  insulting 
message,  called  him  a  fortune-hunter,  whose  love 
for  her  was  a  hollow  sham,  sneered  at  her  tears, 
and  made  sport  of  her  whining,  baby  face. 
Everything  came  back  to  him.  Like  pictures 
thrown  upon  the  canvas  by  the  intense  and  merci- 
less calcium  light,  so  the  past  weeks  and  months 
came  before  him.  How  cruel  he  had  been !  How 
remorseless,  how  vindictive!  And  now  she  was 
dying;  a  few  weeks  more  and  his  Miriam  would 
be  gone  forever. 

He  went  to  a  drawer  of  the  library  table,  the 
one  whose  key  always  hung  on  his  watch-chain, 
and  took  out  a  revolver,  and  placed  the  cold 
barrel  against  his  forehead,  but  he  merely  smiled, 
and  put  the  revolver  back  into  its  case. 

"No,  not  that,"  he  muttered,  "that  is  a 
coward's  refuge." 

Then  he  went  back  again  to  the  chair  on  which 
he  had  been  sitting,  and  stood  for  a  few  moments, 
irresolute,  as  if  debating  with  himself,  but  finally 
he  knelt  at  the  chair,  and,  burying  his  face  in 
his  hands,  uttered  a  groan  of  fearful  despair. 
For  more  than  an  hour  he  knelt  there,  not  pray- 
ing, or  even  trying  to  pray,  but  simply  kneeling 


A    WEDDING  127 

at  the  place  where  Miriam  had  last  sat,  a  help- 
less, stricken  man. 

"  Papa,  I  would  like  to  see  Paul,"  Miriam 
said  one  day,  as  Mr.  Saxby  was  holding  her 
in  his  arms. 

"  Shall  I  send  for  him  ?  "   he  asked,  gently. 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  again  nestling  her  head 
on  his  breast,  and  snuggling  closer  to  him. 

In  an  hour  Paul  was  reading: 

"  Come  at  once  —  Miriam  very  sick.  We  all 
wish  to  see  you.  GASTON  SAXBY." 

"  Certainly,  certainly.  The  very  first  train. 
Don't  hesitate  a  minute.  Hope  it  isn't  anything 
serious.  Stay  as  long  as  you  want  to.  Make 
a  wedding-trip  of  it  if  you  can,"  and  Mr.  Mill- 
trum  bustled  about  the  office,  hardly  allowing 
himself  a  moment's  rest  until  he  had  seen  Paul 
in  the  train  that  evening. 

There  was  no  embarrassment  whatever  in  the 
meeting  of  Paul  and  Mr.  Saxby.  When  men 
are  in  the  valley  and  shadow  of  death  they  are 
not  troubled  with  trifles.  Things  of  greater 
moment  have  control  of  them. 

Mr.  Saxby,  therefore,  simply  held  out  his  hand 
and  said : 

'  Thank  you  for  coming  so  promptly,  Mr. 
Bedford,"  to  which  Paul  replied,  "  Thank  you 
for  sending  for  me,  Mr.  Saxby." 


128      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Neither  referred  to  the  past  then  or  at  any 
other  time.  There  was  too  much  at  stake  to 
bother  with  explanations  or  apologies.  They 
were  fighting  for  Miriam's  life;  anything  less 
had  no  value. 

"  It  might  do  good ;  it  certainly  could  do  no 
harm.  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  approve  most 
heartily."  This  was  Doctor  Voxborough's  reply 
to  Doctor  Harrington,  who  at  Paul  Bedford's 
urgent  request  had  spoken  of  the  possibility  of 
Miriam's  marriage. 

As  a  drowning  man  clutches  a  straw,  blindly 
struggling  for  anything  that  may  save  him 
from  death,  so  they  all  eagerly  reached  for  this 
last  hope,  with  a  fervent  desire  that  in  some  way 
it  might  uncoil  the  fatal  arms  that  were  dragging 
Miriam  to  the  grave.  The  thought  of  refusal 
never  once  occurred  to  Mr.  Saxby. 

It  was  a  strange,  sad  wedding.  Miriam  had 
been  carried  from  her  room  to  the  parlor,  reserv- 
ing her  strength  for  the  ceremony,  and  her  pale, 
sweet  face  looked  like  that  of  an  angel.  She 
insisted  on  being  dressed  in  bridal  costume, 
smilingly  remarking  that  the  woman  who  didn't 
try  to  look  well  at  such  a  time  was  disloyal  to 
her  sex.  She  arranged  that  Doctor  Keithburn, 
who  had  baptized  her  in  infancy,  and  at  whose 
hands  she  had  received  her  first  communion, 
should  perform  the  marriage  service.  Both  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Saxby  wondered  why  Paul,  who  car- 


A    WEDDING  129 

ried  out  her  suggestions  for  the  ceremony,  should 
have  placed  Doctor  Keithburn  in  the  window 
recess,  but  they  did  not  know  that  Miriam  and 
Paul,  as  they  received  the  nuptial  blessing,  knelt 
on  the  very  spot  where  they  had  first  kissed  each 
other. 

There  were  no  guests  save  Doctor  Barrington 
and  Clarence  Fillmore,  but  at  Miriam's  request 
the  servants  were  brought  in  that  they  might 
witness  the  ceremony.  No  one  outside  would 
have  imagined  that  the  Saxby  mansion  was  the 
scene  of  a  wedding,  for  there  was  no  coming 
and  going  of  carriages;  no  stream  of  people 
entering  the  stately  hall;  no  babel  of  young 
voices,  filling  the  house  everywhere;  no  crowd 
waiting  on  the  steps  to  assail  the  departing 
couple  with  showers  of  rice;  no  gay  revellers 
to  whom  a  marriage  feast  is  an  unmixed  joy. 

"  I  am  yours  now,  Paul,  yours,  yours,"  she 
whispered,  with  a  happy  smile,  as  he  almost 
carried  her  to  the  dining-room,  where  she  had 
pleaded  for  some  recognition  of  her  bridal  day. 

"  Yes,  mine,  Miriam,  mine,  now  and  forever," 
he  said,  solemnly,  in  a  voice  intended  only  for 
her. 

Clarence  Fillmore,  good  fellow  that  he  was, 
tried  to  enliven  the  dining-table,  and  Doctor 
Barrington  contributed  his  part,  so  the  hour 
passed  off  with  less  restraint  than  had  been 
feared.  Still,  Miriam  was  much  exhausted  with 


130      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

excitement  and  weakness,  and  soon  went  to  her 
room. 

For  a  few  days  she  actually  gave  promise  of 
recovery,  and  told  Paul  she  would  soon  be  ready 
for  their  wedding-trip. 

"  I  want  to  go  somewhere  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean; it  doesn't  make  much  difference  where, 
if  I  can  only  be  within  sight  of  the  water.  A  nice 
little  villa  with  a  garden  where  we  can  have 
flowers  and  fruit,  and  where  we  won't  be 
bothered  and  troubled  with  a  lot  of  people." 

So  Paul  sent  for  the  plans  of  ships  sailing 
to  Genoa  and  Naples,  and  they  talked  about 
their  trip  with  as  much  pleasure  as  two  children. 

Even  Doctor  Barrington  was  hopeful  for  a 
little  while,  and  spoke  of  it  to  Doctor  Vox- 
borough.  But  he  said  nothing.  As  the  summer 
wore  on,  it  became  very  evident  that  Miriam 
was  fast  losing  all  she  had  gained,  and  the  end 
could  not  be  far  distant. 

But  her  courage  was  unflagging,  and  her 
hope  as  vigorous  as  ever. 

"  You  must  not  be  discouraged,  Paul.  I  am 
ashamed  of  you.  Just  see  how  my  hands  are 
rilling  out.  That  ring  was  too  large  when  you 
first  put  it  on,  and  two  or  three  times  it  nearly 
came  off.  Now  see." 

But  there  came  a  day  early  in  September 
when  she  nestled  for  the  last  time  in  her  father's 
arms.  She  had  wasted  away  so  that  Mr.  Saxby 


A   WEDDING  131 

could  hold  her  as  he  had  done  years  before,  and 
her  face  had  the  sweet  childlike  look  of  her 
early  girlhood. 

"  I  can't  stay  much  longer  with  you,  papa ; 
I  wish  I  could,  for  I  never  loved  you  so  dearly 
as  I  do  now.  But  I  am  so  tired.  You  won't 
forget  your  promise  about  Paul.  Poor  Paul! 
I  am  very  sorry  for  him.  Put  me  down  on 
the  couch,  papa,  and  tell  mamma  and  Paul  I 
want  to  see  them.  How  dark  it  is  getting  all 
at  once!  Why,  the  sun  was  shining  brightly 
a  few  minutes  ago." 

They  gathered  about  her  couch,  Mrs.  Saxby 
with  the  tears  so  blinding  her  that  she  could 
hardly  see;  Mr.  Saxby  with  his  face  gray  as 
ashes,  and  his  lips  trembling  so  that  he  dare 
not  trust  himself  to  speak;  Paul  kneeling  at 
her  side,  holding  her  hands  in  his;  Doctor 
Keithburn  tenderly  saying  the  divine  words,  — 
'  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,"  and  with 
a  sweet  smile  Miriam  went  home  to  be  with 
God. 


BOOK  II. 

JUDITH 


I. 

JUDITH 

.FATHER  TIME,  sly  old  rascal  that  he  is! 
rarely  fails  to  deal  kindly  with  maiden  ladies 
who  do  not  advertise  their  birthdays,  and  whose 
means  permit  the  services  of  an  artistic  dress- 
maker. Hence  we  find  the  Misses  Milltrum, 
after  a  lapse  of  five  years,  much  the  same  as  when 
we  saw  them  start  from  the  Victoria  Station  in 
London,  on  their  way  to  the  South  of  France. 
Indeed,  strict  truth  would  insist  that  the  years 
had  made  ample  compensation  for  the  slight  in- 
crease in  their  age.  Miss  Milltrum  is  decidedly 
less  angular,  of  healthier  look,  and,  while  the  old- 
time  haughty  expression  in  part  remains,  her 
smile  has  more  warmth  and  pleasantness  than  in 
former  days.  As  for  Maud,  the  years  have 
treated  her  graciously.  Not  that  she  is  less 
definite  of  speech,  or  fails  to  express  her  opinions 
with  both  vigor  and  freedom,  but  her  voice  is 
mellow,  her  face  is  kindly,  and  her  words  have 

little  of  rankle  in  them. 
135 


136      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

That  neither  of  them  married  was  a  cause 
of  much  wonder  to  their  friends.  It  was  not 
surely  for  lack  of  opportunity.  Admirers  they 
both  had,  and  to  spare,  ranging  all  the  way 
from  bright  young  cavaliers,  whose  highly 
polished  boots  lacked  yet  their  golden  spurs, 
to  men  of  mature  years,  whose  highly  polished 
brows  extended  midway  over  their  heads. 

"Where  is  Judith?"  Miss  Milltrum  asked, 
turning  from  the  quaint,  old-fashioned  desk 
where  she  had  been  writing,  and  addressing 
Maud,  who  was  critically  examining  a  bit  of 
old  lace. 

"  She  went  out  with  Mr.  Bothwell  over  an 
hour  ago,"  Maud  answered,  smoothing  the  lace 
gently  on  her  knee. 

"  She  goes  out  a  good  deal  with  Mr.  Both- 
well,"  Miss  Milltrum  said,  as  she  sealed  an 
envelope,  using  mauve-colored  wax  and  a  Dres- 
den-handled monogram. 

"  Yes,  but  Judith  is  abundantly  able  to  take 
care  of  herself.  No  need  to  trouble  about  her 
affairs."  As  Maud  spoke  she  lifted  the  piece 
of  lace,  and  held  it  out  between  her  hands. 

"  But  Mr.  Bothwell  is  exceedingly  attentive 
to  Judith,"  Miss  Milltrum  observed,  after  a 
short  pause. 

"  Very ;   he  seems  to  be  in  earnest." 

Maud  now  folded  up  the  bit  of  lace,  and 
looked  inquiringly  at  her  sister. 


JUDITH  137 

"  Which  is  more,  you  think,  than  can  be  said 
of  Judith?" 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  that.  And  yet  I  hardly 
know  what  I  do  mean.  Judith  puzzles  me. 
She  is  a  mystery,  and  has  been  ever  since  she 
came  to  this  house.  At  times,  I  am  positive 
she  is  fond  of  Mr.  Bothwell.  But  I  think  she 
is  more  ambitious  than  many  would  imagine. 
If  I  don't  misjudge  her,  Peggy,  she  would  sac- 
rifice almost  everything  to  carry  out  her  own 
wishes." 

"What  is  bred  in  the  bone  — " 

"  Exactly.  And  she  is  not  likely  to  prove  an 
exception." 

"  But  from  Mr.  Bothwell's  appearance  and 
pretensions  he  could  probably  give  her  a  good 
home.  He  must  have  a  large  income  to  keep 
up  his  present  style  of  living.  Bert  Vernon 
says  Mr.  Bothwell's  apartment  at  the  Sem- 
brada  is  one  of  the  most  expensive  in  the  house, 
and  furnished  without  regard  to  cost." 

"Very  likely,  and  the  'turn-outs'  with  which 
he  comes  for  Judith  are  good  enough  for  any 
one,  nevertheless  —  " 

Without  finishing  her  sentence,  Maud  got  up 
and  went  over  to  the  window,  where  she  re- 
mained standing,  following  with  interest  the 
stream  of  carriages  moving  along  the  avenue. 

"  You  are  not  specially  fond  of  Mr.  Both- 
well  ?  ".  Miss  Milltrum  said,  or  rather  asked. 


138      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Just  about  as  fond  as  you  are,  Peggy.  I 
don't  think  either  of  us  is  desperately  in  love 
with  him." 

"Why  don't  you  like  him,  Maud?" 
"  Why  don't  you  like  him,   Peggy  ? " 
"  I  never  said  I  didn't  like  him." 
"  And   does   a   woman   need   to   say   all   she 
thinks,    especially    if    that    woman    is    Peggy 
Milltrum?      Since   the   day   you   first   met   Mr. 
Bothwell    on    Clarence    Fillmore's    yacht    until 
this  hour,  you  have  never  liked  him.     My  sweet 
sister,  you  may  deceive  the  elect,  whoever  they 
are,    goodness   knows,    I    don't,    but   you   can't 
deceive  me." 

"  Why,  Maud,  whatever  put  such  a  notion 
into  your  head?  Haven't  I  always  been  most 
gracious  to  Mr.  Bothwell,  and  isn't  he  coming 
here  to  dinner  this  evening  at  my  special  de- 
sire?" 

"  You  are  a  veritable  saint,  Peggy,  or,  if 
you  prefer  it,  a  sweet,  artless  maiden,  and  you 
can  hoodwink  Uncle  Lewis,  and  even  lead  Paul 
Bedford  astray,  but  I  know  you  too  well, 

Peggy." 

Then  they  looked  at  each  other  and  laughed 

pleasantly. 

After  a  pause,  Miss  Milltrum  said: 

"  It   is   almost   five    o'clock.      Unless    Judith 

shortens  her  drive  she  will  hardly  have  time  to 


JUDITH  139 

dress  for  dinner.  She  knows  we  are  expecting 
some  friends  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  told  her,  and  she  won't  forget  it. 
You  can  always  depend  on  Judith  for  such  an 
arrangement  of  frocks  and  frills  as  may  be 
necessary." 

Judith  Carreau,  of  whom  the  Misses  Milltrum 
were  now  speaking,  was  virtually  a  member  of 
the  Milltrum  household,  and  had  been  for  some 
time.  It  had  come  about  from  a  letter  written 
to  Mr.  Milltrum  by  Judith's  mother,  a  letter 
which,  after  being  read,  was  carefully  put  away 
with  Mr.  Milltrum's  most  cherished  posses- 
sions. 

When  Mr.  Milltrum  saw  the  writing  on  the 
envelope  his  face  flushed,  then  paled  to  deathly 
gray,  and  his  hand  so  trembled  that  the  letter 
rustled  between  his  fingers.  And  no  wonder, 
for  that  letter  seemed  like  a  message  from  the 
dead.  With  invisible  hands  the  curtain  of  the 
departed  years  was  drawn  aside,  and  in  an  in- 
stant he  went  back  to  a  time  when  dainty  little 
notes  in  that  same  handwriting  had  come  to 
him  almost  every  day.  But  that  was  thirty 
years  ago! 

He  had  gone  South  on  a  business  trip  soon 
after  becoming  partner  in  a  struggling  little 
concern,  and  when  in  New  Orleans  became 
acquainted  with  Kate  Dumont,  the  daughter  of 
a  prominent  merchant  in  that  city.  How  beau- 


140      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

tiful  she  was!  And  even  more  fascinating  than 
beautiful!  There  seemed  a  positive  witchery  in 
her  every  movement.  The  poise  of  her  dainty 
head,  the  grace  of  her  shapely  form,  the  flash 
from  her  sparkling  eyes,  the  curve  of  her  tempt- 
ing lips,  cast  a  spell  upon  Lewis  Milltrum,  from 
which  he  could  not  escape.  Gladly  he  lingered 
all  the  winter  in  New  Orleans,  to  be  within 
the  circle  of  her  presence. 

For  months  he  worshipped  her  in  silence,  not 
daring  to  speak  lest  she  would  send  him  away. 
He  had  not  much  to  offer  her  save  the  eager 
devotion  of  his  soul,  but  with  her  as  an  inspi- 
ration, he  felt  certain  of  making  his  way  to  fame 
and  fortune.  At  length  his  heart  overflowed 
itself,  and  while  Kate  Dumont  was  wilful  and 
capricious,  the  manly,  earnest  words  of  Lewis 
Milltrum  did  not  fall  on  unheeding  or  indifferent 
ears. 

She  promised  to  wait  for  him,  and  when  he 
returned  North,  the  thought  of  making  her  a 
home  was  the  ambition  that  aroused  every 
energy  of  his  being. 

For  a  time  her  letters  were  sweet,  tender, 
hopeful,  all,  in  fact,  that  the  most  ardent  lover 
could  desire.  Then  they  began  to  decline,  and 
take  on  a  formal  tone,  at  length  ceasing  alto- 
gether. 

He  wrote  anxiously,  lovingly,  passionately, 
again  and  again,  but  in  vain.  His  partner  be- 


JUDITH  141 

ing  dangerously  ill  at  the  time,  and  business 
affairs  calling  for  special  care,  he  could  not  go 
to  New  Orleans,  though  his  heart  was  strained 
almost  beyond  endurance. 

Unable  to  bear  the  suspense  any  longer,  he 
wrote  confidentially  to  a  friend,  asking  him  to 
make  inquiries.  The  reply  was  a  terrible  shock, 
for  he  learned  that  Victor  Carreau,  a  handsome, 
dashing  fellow,  reputed  to  be  immensely  wealthy, 
had  won  the  favor  of  Miss  Dumont,  and  their 
marriage  was  arranged  for  an  early  day  in  the 
coming  month.  Lewis  Milltrum  looked  at  that 
letter  as  though  horror-stricken.  It  seemed  im- 
possible that  such  a  thing  could  be. 

But  when  other  letters  came,  the  poor  fellow 
was  forced  to  accept  the  awful  truth.  Then-  a 
deep,  terrible  silence  fell  upon  him.  He  wrote 
no  letter  of  angry  expostulation;  neither  did 
he  send  any  hollow,  unmeaning  congratulations. 
He  was  too  proud  to  so  demean  himself.  But 
on  the  morning  of  Miss  Dumont's  wedding-day, 
a  little  package  marked  "  strictly  personal  "  was 
brought  to  her  room. 

Thinking  it  contained  some  dainty  wedding- 
gift,  or  bit  of  jewelry  intended  for  her  special 
use,  she  opened  it  eagerly,  only  to  find  every 
note  and  letter  she  had  written  Lewis  Milltrum, 
the  flower,  now  crushed  and  withered,  she  had 
given  him  on  the  evening  he  had  declared  his 
love  for  her,  and  also  some  little  tokens  she 


142      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

had  sent  him  after  he  had  left  New  Orleans. 
There  was  not  a  line  or  word  from  him,  even 
the  writing  on  the  wrapper  was  in  a  strange 
hand.  At  first  she  was  angry,  and  a  hot,  in- 
dignant flush  swept  over  her  proud  face,  and 
she  flung  the  package  on  the  floor.  This  caused 
some  of  the  letters  to  fall  under  her  eyes,  and 
she  could  not  but  recall  the  time  when  she  had 
written  them.  Then  she  read  one  and  another, 
weeping  bitterly  all  the  while.  A  strange  way, 
surely,  for  a  woman  to  spend  the  morning  hours 
of  her  wedding-day!  But  she  went  to  church 
at  the  appointed  time,  responded  distinctly  in  the 
service,  smiled  bravely  at  the  reception  in  her 
father's  house,  and  later  in  the  day  went  off  in 
a-  most  becoming  travelling-costume;  but  if 
Victor  Carreau  had  only  known  how  often  his 
bride  thought  of  the  package  of  letters  received 
that  morning,  and  of  the  man  to  whom  she  had 
written  them  only  a  few  months  before,  his 
handsome  face  might  not  have  worn  such  a 
gracious,  self-satisfied  expression. 

All  this,  and  much  more,  passed  through  Mr. 
Milltrum's  mind  as  he  sat  at  his  desk  with  Kate 
Carreau's  unopened  letter  in  his  hand. 

Finally  he  opened  it  and  read : 

"  MY  DEAR  LEWIS  :  —  It  is  too  late  to  ask 
your  forgiveness,  neither  would  it  matter  much 
to  me  now,  as  I  have  only  a  few  hours  to  live. 


JUDITH  143 

Oh,  Lewis,  what  fearful  mistakes  we  make  at 
times  through  our  own  folly  and  selfishness! 
But  it  is  not  of  myself  that  I  am  now  writing, 
and  as  I  shall  have  gone  into  the  land  of  shadows 
before  this  letter  reaches  you,  please,  by  the 
memory  of  other  and  happier  days,  grant  my 
dying  request. 

"  Mr.  Carreau,  before  he  died,  made  some  un- 
fortunate investments,  and  little  remains  now, 
very  little  indeed.  Things  are  much  involved, 
and  unless  some  one  interferes,  my  daughter 
Judith  is  liable  to  suffer  serious  wrong.  But 
I  cannot  write.  I  am  too  weak.  I  want  you 
to  become  Judith's  guardian.  Don't  refuse  me, 
Lewis.  I  wish  I  could  see  you  again.  Good- 
bye. And  as  a  token  that  you  forgive  me,  help 
Judith. 

"  KATE." 

There  was  no  hustling  or  bustling  in  Mr.  Mill- 
trum's  office  the  day  he  received  Mrs.  Carreau's 
letter.  Paul  Bedford,  who  had  travelled  several 
hundred  miles  to  talk  over  some  special  business 
with  him,  saw  at  a  glance  that  Mr.  Milltrum 
was  seriously  troubled  about  something,  so  he 
went  out,  saying  he  would  return  the  following 
day. 

But  Mr.  Milltrum  was  not  in  when  Paul 
called.  Nor  was  he  in  for  several  days.  And 
more  singular  still,  no  one  knew  where  he  had 


144      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

gone,  or  when  he  would  return.  He  made  a 
long  journey  during  those  days,  going  South 
as  far  as  New  Orleans,  a  city  he  had  not  visited 
for  thirty  years,  then  returning  home  by  way 
of  New  York,  where  he  saw  his  nieces,  holding 
with  them  a  serious  and  prolonged  conversation. 
What  this  trip  cost  him  will  never  be  known. 
Money  was  by  far  the  least  part  of  it.  A  visit 
to  a  freshly  made  grave  —  for  Kate  Carreau 
died  the  next  day  after  writing  to  him  —  cost 
him  more  than  all  else,  and  if  any  one  had  seen 
him  standing  at  that  grave  with  reverently  un- 
covered head  and  quivering  lips,  he  would  have 
turned  away,  lest  he  intrude  upon  the  sorrow  of 
a  deeply  stricken  man. 

Hardly  less  affecting  was  his  first  meeting 
with  Judith.  He  had  prepared  himself  for  the 
guardianship  of  a  young  girl,  —  for  Mrs.  Car- 
reau's  letter  gave  no  hint  of  Judith's  age,  —  but 
he  found  instead  a  young  woman,  the  living 
image  of  her  mother,  and  just  as  he  remem- 
bered her  in  all  the  glory  of  her  wondrous  beauty. 
He  looked  at  Judith  with  startled  eyes,  and  when 
she  moved  towards  him  he  stepped  back  in  sheer 
amazement. 

"  You  are  Mr.  Milltrum,"  she  said,  with  a  soft, 
sweet  voice,  one  which  shot  back  every  bolt  in 
his  heart,  for,  to  him,  it  was  Kate  Dumont  who 
was  speaking. 

"  And  you  are  —  "    he  almost  said  "  Kate," 


JUDITH  145 

the  familiar  name  fairly  trembled  on  his 
tongue. 

"  Judith,"  she  answered,  with  a  sad  smile, 
gently  extending  her  hand. 

"  I  have  come  at  the  request  of  your  mother," 
he  said,  slowly,  and  speaking  with  difficulty. 
"  You  know,  I  presume,  that  she  sent  for  me." 

"  I  know  that  she  wrote  to  you.  Your  coming 
so  soon  is  a  kindness  I  hardly  dared  to  expect." 
Robed  in  deep  black,  with  a  face  startlingly  like 
that  of  her  mother,  and  speaking  in  tones  which 
affected  him  most  strangely,  Judith  instantly 
made  her  way  into  Mr.  Milltrum's  heart,  and  he 
was  glad  that  Mrs.  Carreau  had  placed  her 
daughter  under  his  care. 

He  remained  South  long  enough  to  find  out 
the  exact  condition  of  affairs,  and  adjust  every- 
thing to  the  best  possible  advantage.  But  there 
was  little  to  adjust.  At  no  time  had  Victor 
Carreau  been  a  rich  man,  —  showy,  and  of  ex- 
pensive habits,  he  had  given  the  impression  of 
wealth,  but  his  possessions '  were  largely  specu- 
lative, and  by  no  means  as  valuable  as  people 
imagined.  As  the  more  practical  ways  of  the 
North  found  favor,  Victor  Carreau's  visions 
obtained  less  credence,  and  his  reign  as  a  finan- 
cier came  to  an  end.  Then  he  lost  control  of 
himself,  going  down  step  by  step,  haunting  low 
gambling  dens,  common  groggeries,  finally  be- 
coming involved  in  transactions  more  desperate 


146      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

than  honest.  At  length  he  died  a  poor,  pitiable 
wreck,  leaving  Mrs.  Carr.eau  and  Judith  to 
struggle  as  best  they  could. 

Fortunately,  a  remnant  of  Mrs.  Carreau's 
wedding  portion  remained,  a  pin-money  arrange- 
ment insisted  on  by  Mr.  Dumont,  so  she  was 
not  altogether  penniless,  but  it  was  a  narrow, 
pinching  life,  and  all  the  more  galling  because 
of  the  bitter  contrast  with  former  years. 

Without  saying  anything  to  Judith,  Mr.  Mill- 
trum  paid  off  some  mortgages  on  which  fore- 
closure was  threatened;  took  care  of  other  debts 
long  outstanding;  discharged  the  medical  and 
funeral  obligations,  thus  relieving  her  of  all 
personal  burdens,  and  at  the  same  time  secur- 
ing for  her  a  small  income  from  the  property. 
Then  he  proposed  that  she  come  North,  and,  for 
a  time  at  any  rate,  make  her  home  with  his  nieces 
in  New  York.  This  suggestion  Judith  gladly 
accepted.  She  was  anxious  to  leave  the  scenes 
of  her  humiliation  and  poverty.  She,  therefore, 
willingly  accompanied  Mr.  Milltrum;  indeed, 
she  seemed  eager  to  get  away  from  New  Orleans. 

On  arriving  in  New  York,  the  Misses  Mill- 
trum gave  her  a  cordial  welcome,  making  her 
as  far  as  possible  a  member  of  their  family.  But 
as  neither  of  these  ladies  had  any  romance  con- 
nected with  Kate  Dumont,  and  as  they  were 
both  tolerably  keen  of  vision,  they  soon  made 
certain  discoveries  regarding  Judith  Carreau, 


JUDITH  147 

which  gave  them  a  fair  estimate  of  her  character. 
But  they  said  nothing  of  this  to  Mr.  Milltrum, 
He  had  told  them  enough  of  his  story  to  make 
an  appeal  both  affecting  and  powerful.  They 
knew  that  in  Mr.  Milltrum's  heart  Judith's 
mother  had  a  holy  shrine,  to  which  he  brought 
a  devotion  as  constant  as  it  was  beautiful. 

And  so,  while  Judith  was  weighed  in  the  bal- 
ance, perhaps  a  little  too  critically,  for  the  sake 
of  the  dear  old  man  to  whom  they  were  devoted, 
they  tried  to  make  the  best  of  everything. 

"  There  is  the  carriage  coming  up  the  avenue," 
Miss  Milltrum  said,  glancing  out  of  the  window, 
for  the  house  standing  on  the  corner,  and  hav- 
ing large  bay-windows,  commanded  an  extensive 
view. 

"  I  told  you  Judith  would  be  here  in  good 
season,"  Maud  remarked,  "  not  all  the  king's 
horses  nor  all  the  king's  men,  Mr.  Bothwell  in- 
cluded, could  keep  her  out  beyond  the  time." 

"Aren't  you  a  little  severe  with  her,  Maud?" 

"  Why  Peggy,  there  are  lots  of  good  things 
in  Judith.  I  —  " 

Maud  didn't  finish  the  sentence,  for  at  that 
moment  Judith  entered  the  room. 


n. 

A  DINNER-PARTY 


M, 


.R.  MILLTRUM  was  standing  on  the 
hearth-rug  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  after  the 
manner  of  an  English  country  gentleman,  only 
his  hands  were  in  his  pockets  instead  of  holding 
his  coat-tails.  Miss  Milltrum  was  snugly  en- 
sconced in  an  easy-chair,  one  of  the  most  com- 
fortable in  her  cozy  sitting-room.  They  had 
been  discussing  various  matters  which  led  up 
to  Mr.  Milltrum  saying: 

"  Maud,  in  her  last  few  letters,  has  mentioned 
a  Mr.  Bothwell.     Who  is  he,  Peggy  ?  " 

"  A  gentleman  we  met  on  Mr.  Fillmore's  yacht 
at  the  races  last  season." 

"  But  that  doesn't  tell  me  who  he  is.     What 
do  you  think  of  him  ?    Do  you  like  him  ?  " 

Mr.    Milltrum   rarely   contented   himself   with 
a  single  question. 

"  He  is   fairly  good-looking,   anywhere   from 
thirty  to  thirty-five,  and  as  agreeable  and  well- 
mannered  as  men  usually  are." 
148 


A    DINNER-PARTY  149 

Miss  Milltrum  accompanied  her  reply  with 
a  non-committal  smile. 

"  Peggy,  you  have  a  positive  genius  for 
answering  questions.  What  a  witness  you  would 
make  in  a  court-room!  How  the  lawyers  would 
enjoy  you!  I  didn't  ask  you  about  Mr.  Both- 
well's  looks  or  manners,  but  who  he  is,  and 
what  you  think  of  him  ?  " 

Though  speaking  in  a  bantering  tone,  Mr. 
Milltrum  was  really  serious. 

"  Honestly,  Uncle  Lewis,  I  know  almost  noth- 
ing of  Mr.  Bothwell.  I  met  him  first,  as  I  told 
you,  at  the  yacht  races.  Then  again  at  the 
Fillmores',  where  we  went  to  dinner.  After 
that  we  ran  across  him  a  number  of  times.  Bert 
Vernon  asked  us  to  send  him  a  card  for  one  of 
our  gatherings.  Naturally,  he  called  after  that. 
But  he  is  coming  here  this  evening,  and  you  can 
form  your  own  opinion  of  him." 

"  From  what  Maud  says,  I  infer  that  he  is 
attentive  to  Judith  ?  " 

There  was  a  strain  of  anxiety  very  audible  in 
this  question. 

"  That,  perhaps,  is  easily  explained.  Judith, 
of  course,  has  not  gone  out  anywhere  since  com- 
ing to  New  York.  Our  friends  all  know  that  she 
is  in  mourning  for  her  mother." 

Here  Mr.  Milltrum  looked  at  the  rug,  draw- 
ing in  his  lips  after  a  fashion  peculiar  to  himself. 

"  Consequently,  she  has  not  seen  many  people. 


150      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Mr.  Bothwell  has  been  quite  friendly,  taking  her 
driving  a  few  times,  but  only  the  usual  round 
in  Central  Park." 

"  Nothing  extraordinary  in  that."  The  strain 
of  anxiety  in  Mr.  Milltrum's  voice  had  sensibly 
declined. 

"  No,  but  Maud,  not  having  outgrown  her 
romantic  notions,  has  probably  attached  more 
importance  to  Mr.  Both  well's  courtesies  than  he 
intended." 

"  Very  likely,  but  Judith  is  sure  to  receive 
considerable  attention  sooner  or  later.  With  the 
exception  of  yourself,  Peggy,  —  well,  I  will  add 
Maud,  seeing  how  handsomely  she  is  flounced 
and  f  urbelowed,  —  I  don't  remember  ever  meeting 
a  more  attractive-looking  woman  than  Judith." 

Maud,  who  had  entered  the  room  while  Mr. 
Milltrum  was  speaking,  made  an  elaborate  curt- 
sey, in  recognition  of  her  uncle's  compliment. 
Miss  Milltrum  smiled  pleasantly,  glancing  at  her 
sister,  whose  gown  was  not  unlike  her  own,  and 
equally  becoming.  Then  they  went  down-stairs, 
for  it  was  almost  dinner-time. 

Paul  Bedford  was  the  first  to  arrive,  which 
might  be  expected,  his  relations  with  the  Mill- 
trums  being  far  from  those  of  an  ordinary  guest. 
He  has  changed  perceptibly  since  we  last  saw 
him,  though  there  is  the  same  pleasant  smile  and 
the  same  rich  voice,  but  he  looks  older  than  his 
years  would  warrant,  and  has  an  air  of  maturity 


A    DINNER-PARTY  151 

for  which  we  are  not  prepared.  His  hair  is  not 
so  luxuriant  as  when  Miriam  at  times  would 
twist  it  around  her  slender  fingers,  and,  if  one 
looked  closely  here  and  there,  signs  of  gray 
might  be  seen.  Though  only  turned  thirty,  his 
face  has  lines  of  care,  also  that  firm,  set  look, 
which  comes  to  men  whose  lives  are  earnest  and 
serious.  His  eyes  have  a  sharper  gleam  than 
in  the  olden  days,  while  his  bearing  has  more 
of  reserve. 

These  five  years  have  meant  much  to  Paul 
Bedford.  After  Miriam's  death,  he  gave  him- 
self up  to  business  with  singular  devotion,  throw- 
ing into  it  an  energy  which  seemed  inexhaust- 
ible. Soon  Mr.  Milltrum  discovered  that  Paul 
had  rare  gifts  for  organization,  so  he  allowed 
him  to  work  out  certain  plans,  which  proved 
marvellously  successful.  Then  he  gave  him 
larger  opportunities,  which  resulted  in  the  same 
way.  The  next  step  was  an  interest  in  the  firm, 
and  this  so  aroused  the  ambition  of  the  young 
partner  that  the  business  increased  at  a  pro- 
digious rate.  Paul  went  into  everything,  — 
mines,  railroads,  ships,  sometimes  taking  what 
other  men  considered  serious  risks,  but  never 
failing  to  come  out  on  the  right  side  of  the 
market,  and  with  profits  that  amazed  Mr.  Mill- 
trum. Sometimes  the  old  gentleman  shook  his 
head  warningly,  but  Paul  only  smiled,  and  as 
the  results  more  than  justified  his  course,  Mr. 


152      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Milltrum  gradually  allowed  him  to  have  his 
way. 

His  prescience  was  simply  amazing.  Rarely 
was  he  caught  tripping.  Men  of  suave  address 
and  tempting  speech  came  with  schemes  that 
were  most  plausible,  but  in  a  glance  he  would 
see  the  fatal  weakness  of  their  plan.  Combina- 
tions at  which  Wall  Street  looked  on  in  wonder, 
Paul  carried  through  with  apparent  ease,  and 
there  was  hardly  a  firm  within  sound  of  old 
Trinity  chimes  which  would  not  have  eagerly 
welcomed  him  as  a  partner. 

"  Mr.  Bedford  seems  to  be  having  things  his 
own  way,"  Mr.  Crewe  said  one  day  to  Mr.  Saxby, 
after  Paul  had  made  a  clean  sweep  in  Wall  Street, 
causing  some  men  to  dance  a  lively  tune,  and 
pay  the  piper  proportionately. 

"  Youth  is  sometimes  reckless,"  Mr.  Saxby 
replied,  looking  up  from  his  desk  at  Mr.  Crewe, 
who  had  brought  in  the  latest  Wall  Street  bul- 
letin. 

"  But  Mr.  Bedford  is  never  reckless ;  he  is 
daring,  wonderfully  so;  throws  himself  against 
some  of  the  strongest  combinations  I  have  ever 
known,  but  everything  is  so  planned  that  he 
must  succeed.  Blixter  and  Blexter  dropped  at 
least  a  million  in  their  last  fight  with  him." 

With  the  Saxbys  Paul  maintained  a  merely 
formal  relation,  for  he  keenly  remembered  the 
harshness  with  which  they  had  treated  Miriam, 


A    DINNER-PARTY  153 

only  repenting  when  she  lay  at  the  gates  of 
death. 

Mr.  Saxby  had  several  times  urged  him  to 
come  to  New  York,  offering  him  strong  induce- 
ments, but  when  he  thought  of  Miriam,  his 
heart  turned  to  stone. 

Small  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  years  have 
so  changed  him.  Yet  he  is  no  less  handsome 
than  of  yore,  and  as  we  see  him  talking  in  his 
grave,  dignified  way  with  Miss  Milltrum,  he 
seems  just  such  a  man  as  many  women  would 
love  with  a  passion  stronger  than  death. 

Next  to  Paul  Bedford,  in  point  of  arrival, 
was  Mr.  Gerald  Bothwell,  a  gentleman  who  has 
already  provoked  some  discussion  in  the  Mill- 
trum household,  and  who  may  cause  even  more. 

Mr.  Bothwell  is  not  as  tall  as  Paul  Bedford, 
but  of  broader  shoulders,  deeper  chest,  and  so 
formed  as  to  suggest  great  physical  strength. 
Most  women  would  consider  him  handsome,  but 
the  more  critical,  particularly  after  a  close  scru- 
tiny, might  regard  him  with  less  favor.  His 
eyes  were  large,  but  restless,  and  so  heavily 
browed  as  to  give  the  appearance  of  peering 
rather  than  openly  looking.  His  mouth  was 
partly  hidden  by  a  jet  black  mustache,  which 
drooped  gracefully  at  the  ends,  but  nothing  could 
hide  the  positive  set  of  his  lips,  or  the  sense  of 
power  they  conveyed.  Nature  had  failed  to  pro- 
portion his  neck,  and  this  was  a  great  pity,  for 


154      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

he  had  a  splendid  head,  massive,  shapely,  impos- 
ing, but  losing  much  of  its  impressiveness,  because 
it  rested  so  near  to  his  shoulders.  There  was 
something  about  him  which  indicated  tremen- 
dous force  of  will,  and  also  a  disposition  which 
would  not  easily  brook  restraint. 

In  the  groups  now  forming  might  be  noticed 
Clarence  Fillmore,  stouter,  ruddier,  fond  of  yacht- 
ing as  ever,  and  his  wife,  whom  we  knew  as  Kitty 
Vernon.  Kitty  is  trim  and  tailor-made,  as  a 
Boston  woman  never  fails  to  be,  though,  despite 
the  carefully  fitted  gown,  she  has  a  matronly 
look,  which,  however,  detracts  nothing  from  her 
appearance. 

At  the  right  moment  Judith  came  in,  that 
moment  when,  for  some  unaccountable  reason, 
conversation  drops  away,  and  the  guests  wait 
expectantly.  As  Paul  had  frequently  heard  Mr. 
Milltrum  speak  of  Miss  Carreau,  naturally  he  had 
some  desire  to  meet  her.  Though  taller  than  the 
average  woman,  Judith  was  of  such  superb  figure, 
her  bearing  so  graceful  that  her  height  seemed 
in  exquisite  proportion,  while,  if  she  did  not  sug- 
gest the  dainty  ways  and  feminine  graces  usually 
so  much  admired,  her  gracious  air  more  than 
supplied  their  absence. 

Her  forehead  was  low  and  broad,  crowned  with 
a  wealth  of  hair  black  and  shiny  as  coal.  Her 
eyes,  large  and  dark,  conveyed  that  delicious 
languorous  expression  peculiar  to  those  of  South- 


A    DINNER-PARTY  155 

ern  blood.  If  seen  in  outline,  her  features  might 
hint  at  Semitic  ancestry,  but  in  full  view,  espe- 
cially when  lighted  by  a  smile,  or  stirred  by  con- 
versation, she  revealed  a  beauty  as  strange  as  it 
was  dazzling.  Her  dress  of  black  crepe  de  chine, 
unrelieved  by  flower  or  jewel,  was  in  sharp  con- 
trast with  the  brilliant  costumes  of  the  other 
ladies  present,  but  as  a  foil  to  her  faultless  neck 
and  shoulders,  nothing  could  be  more  effective. 

In  the  pairing  off,  Judith  was  placed  with  Paul, 
a  proper  arrangement  under  the  circumstances, 
but  by  no  means  pleasing  to  Mr.  Bothwell,  though 
only  Judith  saw  the  angry  light  which,  for  a 
moment,  flamed  in  his  eyes.  If  Maud  Milltrum 
had  seen  it,  she  might  not  have  smiled  so  pleas- 
antly at  Mr.  Bothwell  when  he  took  her  in  to 
dinner. 

"  I  have  heard  Mr.  Milltrum  speak  of  you 
so  often  that  I  have  already  formed  a  most  de- 
lightful acquaintance,"  Paul  observed,  as  they 
were  going  to  the  dining-room. 

"  Mr.  Milltrum  has  been  very  kind  to  me," 
Judith  replied,  in  a  tone  just  above  a  whisper. 
Paul  instantly  recognized  the  delightful  Southern 
accent,  so  different  from  the  harsh,  abrupt  voice 
of  the  West. 

"  And  he  has  been  more  than  kind  to  me," 
Paul  said,  looking  gratefully  at  Mr.  Milltrum,  who, 
at  that  moment,  was  leading  Peggy  to  her  place. 

Judith  made  no  reply,  possibly   for  lack  of 


156      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

opportunity,  as  the  company  was  being  seated, 
a  time  never  favorable  for  definite  conversation. 

"  Besides  our  mutual  gratitude  to  Mr.  Mill- 
trum,  we  have  another  bond  of  sympathy,"  Paul 
remarked,  quietly. 

"  And  that  is  —  ?  "  As  Judith  spoke,  she 
looked  at  Paul,  her  face  lighted  with  a  smile,  and 
her  eyes  glowing  with  mysterious  fire. 

So  strangely  beautiful  did  she  appear  that  Paul 
was  positively  startled.  In  the  parlor,  when  go- 
ing through  the  round  of  introductions,  her  face 
was  in  comparative  repose,  and  the  impression 
on  Paul  was  that  of  coldness,  a  proud,  imperious 
consciousness  of  her  beauty,  and  the  homage  to 
which  it  was  entitled. 

But  now  she  seemed  transfigured.  Her  face 
was  illumined.  Besides  her  beauty,  there  was 
a  fascination  in  her  every  movement,  which  Paul 
could  not  but  feel. 

"  We  are  both  from  the  South,  though  you 
may  not  recognize  the  claim  of  a  Virginian," 
Paul  answered,  returning  her  smile,  a  movement 
which  did  not  escape  the  watchful  eyes  of  Mr. 
Bothwell. 

"  Oh,  gladly !  my  mother's  people  came  from 
Virginia !  Perhaps  you  are  acquainted  in  Eving- 
ton?" 

"  Certainly  I  am.  My  home  was  in  Charle- 
mont,  not  more  than  twenty  miles  from  Eving- 
ton." 


A    DINNER-PARTY  157 

"  I  once  went  with  my  mother  to  visit  the 
Campbells,  but  that  was  when  I  was  a  little  girl, 
a  long  time  ago,"  Judith  said,  giving  to  her  words 
a  reminiscent  tinge,  more  playful  than  serious. 

"  And  I  went  with  my  mother,  and  more  than 
once,  to  visit  the  Campbells,  but  that  was  when 
I  was  a  little  boy,  a  long,  long  time  ago,"  Paul 
said,  in  the  same  vein. 

"  My  mother  was  related  to  the  Campbells," 
Judith  said,  seriously. 

"  It  was  my  father  who  had  that  privilege," 
Paul  answered,  just  as  seriously. 

"  Then  you  are  a  —  sort  of  —  cousin,"  Judith 
said,  again  looking  at  Paul,  her  eyes  glowing  even 
more  strangely  than  before,  and  her  smile  won- 
drously  rich  and  radiant. 

"  Any  sort  of  a  cousin,  provided  you  acknowl- 
edge the  relationship,"  Paul  answered,  gallantly. 
Then  he  did  what  most  men  would  have  done,  — 
gave  her  hand  a  cousinly  little  squeeze,  which  was 
duly  acknowledged,  and  returned  in  kind.  And 
why  not?  There  was  no  reason  for  a  most  ex- 
quisite flush  to  steal  into  Judith's  face,  or  for 
Paul  to  feel  excited  in  the  least.  Nevertheless, 
such  was  the  case,  though  probably  no  one  noticed 
it  except  Mr.  Bothwell,  who  pretended  to  be  lis- 
tening intently  to  something  Miss  Milltrum  was 
saying.  And  Miss  Milltrum  was  always  worth 
listening  to,  and  never  more  than  then,  for  she 
was  telling  the  story  of  a  woman  who  gravely 


158      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

assured  her  that  she  was  distinctly  conscious  of 
a  prior  existence,  and  at  times  had  the  most  vivid 
remembrances  of  people,  conversations,  and  inci- 
dents connected  with  her  former  life. 

As  Paul  listened,  his  mind  went  back  to  that 
eventful  night  in  London,  when  he  saw  Irving 
in  "  The  Bells,"  and  how  he  was  impressed  with 
the  trancelike  sleep  of  the  guilty  innkeeper. 
Scores,  ay,  hundreds,  of  times  since  then  had  his 
poor,  lonely  soul  wandered  hither  and  thither  in 
search  of  his  lost  Miriam.  Eagerly  he  had  read 
everything  which  held  out  any  hope  of  communi- 
cation with  the  spirit  world.  Many  a  midnight 
hour  had  he  sat  in  the  quiet  of  his  room,  strain- 
ing every  fibre  of  his  being  that  he  might  in  some 
way  realize  her  presence. 

"  Miriam !  Miriam !  "  he  would  call  in  hoarse 
whispers,  then  wait,  listening  intently  for  her 
reply.  But  the  clock  only  ticked  on  the  mantel- 
piece, voices  spoke  loudly  on  the  street,  or  the 
winter's  wind  fiercely  rattled  the  window  near 
where  he  sat  in  his  loneliness  and  despair. 

Through  the  day,  in  the  rush  and  strife  of 
business,  he  would  put  away  the  longings  of  his 
heart,  doing  it  with  such  success  that  no  one  ever 
thought  of  him  as  anything  but  a  man  of  iron, 
whose  one  thought  was  to  conquer  the  world  of 
finance.  But  when  the  day  was  over,  and  the 
excitement  had  died  out,  often  would  he  walk 
by  the  lake-front,  fairly  revelling  in  the  wild 


A    DINNER-PARTY  159 

winds  as  they  swept  from  the  distant  shore,  feel- 
ing a  strange  joy  in  the  carnival  of  tempest  and 
storm ! 

At  other  times,  in  the  hush  of  the  summer's 
evening,  when  the  long,  shadowy  arms  of  the 
night  would  be  reaching  out  from  the  sky,  ready 
to  take  the  tired  city  to  their  embrace  and  hush 
it  into  sleep,  he  has  sat  as  one  in  a  dream,  looking 
for  the  face  that  was  dearer  to  him  than  life. 

Many  good,  true,  kindly  women,  who  pitied 
his  loneliness,  had  smiled  upon  him,  and  would 
have  shared  it  willingly,  but  with  him  Miriam 
was  not  dead,  she  was  living;  to  think,  therefore, 
of  asking  another  to  take  her  place  would  be 
impossible. 

"  You  know  this  woman  ? "  Kitty  Fillmore 
inquired.  As  almost  everything  occult  has  its 
home  in  Boston,  Kitty  was  naturally  the  first  one 
to  ask  this  question. 

:'  Yes,  I  know  her  well.  She  is  a  bright,  in- 
telligent woman.  There  is  nothing  visionary  or 
romantic  about  her.  She  is  happily  married,  has 
a  pleasant  home,  is  in  good  circumstances,  takes 
splendid  care  of  her  children,  doesn't  write  poe- 
try or  love-stories,  and,  all  in  all,  is  one  of  the 
most  sensible  women  of  my  acquaintance.  Yet 
on  this  point  she  is  simply  immovable.  She  won't 
argue  with  you,  nor  go  into  any  discussion;  she 
merely  smiles  when  doubts  are  suggested,  and 
turns  the  conversation  into  another  channel." 


160      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  As  a  theory,  there  is  much  in  its  favor," 
Paul  Bedford  remarked,  gravely,  "  and,  if  true, 
it  explains  many  things  now  very  mysterious. 
Still,  I  find  this  life  heavy  enough  without  taking 
on  any  other." 

"  This  lady,  of  whom  my  niece  has  spoken, 
makes  me  think  of  a  turtle,  with  her  other  life 
covering  her  as  a  clumsy  shell.  But  she  probably 
enjoys  it,  as  most  likely  the  turtle  does.  Which 
reminds  me,"  and  Mr.  Milltrum  broke  out  with 
a  story  that  ended  as  all  good  dinner-stories 
should  end.  Soon  after  Miss  Milltrum  gave  that 
unseen,  but  effective  signal,  with  which  a  hostess 
announces  a  return  to  the  parlor. 


MR. 


III. 

GERALD  BOTHWELL 


L  MILLTRUM  soon  made  up  his  mind 
concerning  Gerald  Bothwell.  And  Mr.  Mill- 
trum's  mind  when  once  made  up  usually  re- 
mained so.  Not  that  he  was  more  obstinate  or 
positive  than  the  average  man,  but  he  had  a 
way  of  holding  to  his  opinions  with  a  consist- 
ency which  rarely  declined. 

He  was,  of  course,  very  courteous  to  Mr.  Both- 
well.  On  being  introduced,  he  shook  hands  with 
him  cordially,  inquired  in  genuine  Western  fash- 
ion as  to  his  health,  was  glad  to  meet  him,  and 
several  times  during  the  evening  made  openings 
for  him  to  share  in  the  general  conversation. 
But  Mr.  Bothwell  disappointed  him,  and  he  found 
himself  hoping  that  Judith  had  not  placed  any 
importance  on  his  attentions. 

After  most  of  the  guests  had  gone,  Mr.  Both- 
well  included,  Mr.  Milltrum  said  to  Bert  Vernon : 

"  Come  to  my  den  and  have  a  smoke.  You  can 
come  up  later,  Paul.  Peggy  has  some  plans  for 
to-morrow  she  wants  to  talk  over  with  you." 

161 


162      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

In  a  few  minutes  Bert  was  in  Mr.  Milltrum's 
den,  a  room  specially  set  apart  for  his  use,  into 
which  the  Misses  Milltrum  had  put  everything 
that  coziness  and  comfort  could  suggest.  Bert 
dropped  into  a  luxurious  chair  not  far  from  a 
little  table  on  which  were  certain  liquid  refresh- 
ments and  a  box  of  rare  cigars.  This  was  not 
Bert's  first  visit  to  Mr.  Milltrum's  den,  for, 
despite  the  disparity  in  their  age,  they  were  com- 
paratively intimate. 

"  What  do  you  know  of  Mr.  Bothwell  ?  "  Mr. 
Milltrum  inquired,  as  he  held  a  lighter  to  his 
cigar. 

"  Very  little,  almost  nothing,  in  fact,"  Bert 
replied,  looking  at  his  cigar  with  a  goodly  meas- 
ure of  contentment. 

"  My  niece  tells  me  you  asked  her  to  send  him 
a  card  for  one  of  her  jamborees."  Mr.  Milltrum 
had  now  seated  himself  on  a  chair  not  far  from 
Bert  Vernon's. 

"  Yes,  but  he  put  it  to  me  in  a  way  I  couldn't 
well  refuse.  Afterwards  I  was  sorry." 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  where  you  first 
met  him,  and  how  you  got  acquainted.  I  am 
not  asking  out  of  mere  curiosity." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Milltrum,  I  am  ashamed  to  say 
it,  more  especially  after  what  you  said  to  me 
over  a  year  ago,  but  since  you  ask  me  a  plain, 
direct  question  —  I  met  him  at  Cranburg's." 

"  That  place  on  —  ?  " 


GERALD    BOTHWELL  163 

Bert  nodded. 

"  Was  he  playing?  " 

Bert  nodded  again. 

"  Who  introduced  you  ?  " 

"  Tom  Shirland." 

"  Shirland  usually  knows  what  he  is  about. 
At  least,  I  should  think  so.  His  father,  Judge 
Shirland,  is  an  old  friend  of  mine." 

"  As  Tom  introduced  Bothwell,  I  thought,  of 
course,  it  was  all  right,  and  the  fellow  made  him- 
self so  agreeable  that  when  Clarence  Fillmore 
was  making  up  a  party  for  the  yacht  races, 
I  got  Bothwell  in,  where  he  met  your 
nieces.' 

"  Does  Shirland  know  anything  of  him  ?  " 

"  That,  Mr.  Milltrum,  is  where  the  shoe 
pinches.  One  day  I  asked  Tom  where  he  met 
Bothwell,  and  he  was  quite  huffy  about  it.  Tom 
is  airish  at  times,  and  carries  the  earth  in  his 
vest-pocket.  So  he  suggested  that  I  mind  my 
own  business,  which,  I  think,  included  going  to 
the  devil,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  This  made  me 
furious,  for  I  knew  then  he  was  keeping  some- 
thing back.  I  therefore  let  Tom  have  it  straight, 
told  him  that  we  were  being  held  responsible 
for  Bothwell,  and  were  virtually  his  social  en- 
dorsers. After  a  time,  but  not  until  I  forced 
him,  he  owned  up  to  meeting  Bothwell  at  Nathan 
Neumarck's." 

"  Nathan  Neumarck's !  " 


164      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Yes,  for  Cranburg's  cleaned  Tom  out,  and 
he  was  forced  to  give  paper." 

"  Which  Neumarck  took  for  a  generous  con- 
sideration." 

"  But  not  unless  Bothwell  endorsed  it." 

"  Shirland,  therefore,  is  under  obligations  to 
Bothwell." 

"  Just  as  I  am,  Mr.  Milltrum.  Don't  look  so 
hurt  or  surprised,  for  I  feel  bad  enough  as  it  is! 
And  I'm  going  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  some- 
thing I've  wanted  to  do  ever  since  the  infernal 
thing  took  place.  One  night  I  went  to  Cranburg's, 
and  for  an  hour  had  a  run  of  rare  luck.  Every- 
thing came  my  way.  My  pile  was  big  enough 
to  start  a  bank.  A  crowd  gathered  around,  and 
everything  shut  down  except  our  game.  Natu- 
rally, I  got  excited  as  I  made  scoop  after  scoop, 
and  it  looked  one  time  as  if  Cranburg  would  have 
to  throw  up  the  sponge.  But  after  a  while  luck 
went  against  me.  Then  I  got  reckless,  and  went 
in  for  higher  stakes.  Bothwell  wanted  me  to 
stop,  but  how  could  I  stop  then?  It  would  have 
been  a  case  of  white  feather.  So  I  went  on  think- 
ing my  turn  would  come  again.  But  it  didn't. 
Down  went  my  pile  until  I  was  where  I  started. 
Again  Bothwell  wanted  me  to  stop,  but  my  blood 
was  up,  and  I  kept  the  thing  going  for  an  hour 
longer." 

"  How  much  did  you  lose?  " 


GERALD    BOTHWELL  165 

"  Don't  ask  me,  Mr.  Milltrum,  I  would  rather 
not  say." 

"  Well,  how  did  you  get  straightened  out  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  straightened  out,  and  won't  be  for 
some  time." 

"  But  things  had  to  be  arranged." 

"  Confound  it  all !  "  Bert  said,  impatiently, 
then  flinging  his  half-burnt  cigar  into  the  fire, 
he  started  from  his  chair  and  began  to  walk  about 
the  room. 

But  Mr.  Milltrum  quietly  said : 

"  Out  with  it,  Bert,  out  with  it." 

"  Nathan  Neumarck  did  the  arranging ;  he 
took  my  paper,  damn  him  for  an  old  rascal !  " 

"  And  did  Mr.  Bothwell  endorse  your 
notes?" 

"  Yes,  Neumarck  insisted  on  it ;  so  when  he 
asked  me  for  a  place  on  Fillmore's  yacht,  and 
then  later  for  a  card  from  Miss  Milltrum,  I 
couldn't  well  refuse." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  of  what  Mr.  Bothwell's 
business  is?  " 

"  Something  in  shipping;  at  least,  I  think  so, 
for,  after  leaving  Neumarck's,  whose  place  is 
away  down-town,  I  went  with  him  to  Burling 
Slip,  where  he  has  an  office." 

"  And  you  went  in  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  but  there  wasn't  much  to  see,  ex- 
cept what  I  would  call  a  lot  of  junk.  It  is  the 
rummiest  place  I  was  ever  in." 


166      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Mr.  Milltrum  made  no  reply,  contenting  him- 
self with  lighting  another  cigar,  and  affection- 
ately stroking  his  chin,  a  favorite  exercise  when 
ruminating.  Then  he  said: 

"  The  first  thing  is  to  get  your  notes  from 
Neumarck.  You  called  him  a  damned  old  ras- 
cal, and  that  suits  him  exactly.  Only  say  next 
time  that  he  is  also  an  infernal  thief.  You  didn't 
see  Neumarck  himself,  did  you  ?  " 

"  No,  some  kind  of  an  old  bookkeeper  did  the 
business,  going  with  my  notes  to  an  inner  office, 
then  coming  out  with  the  money." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  Cranburg?  " 

"  Now  that  you  ask  me,  I  never  did." 

"  Well,  Bert,  Cranburg  and  Neumarck  are  only 
names,  and  represent  the  same  person.  I  don't 
wonder  you  are  surprised.  It  is  a  fact,  never- 
theless. Cranburg  has  his  decoys,  who  get  the 
young  fools  —  I  can't  help  it,  Bert,  for  they  are 
nothing  else  —  to  lose  their  money  at  gaming- 
tables; then  Neumarck  takes  their  notes  for 
more  money,  which  they  proceed  to  empty  into 
his  gaping  maw.  Some  day  the  dirty  fox,  who 
is  behind  this  business,  will  be  run  to  earth. 
Now,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  handle  your  affairs 
with  Mr.  Neuimarck,  I  won't  say  a  word  to  Paul 
Bedford,  for  I  know  how  much  he  thinks  of  you, 
otherwise,  I  must  tell  him  what  a  Jack  you  have 
been." 

Mr.  Milltrum's  voice  had  just  the  right  tone  — 


GERALD    BOTHWELL  167 

sufficiently  serious  to  be  impressive,  yet  by  no 
means  lacking  in  hearty  sympathy. 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Milltrum,  you  will  find,  though, 
I  am  in  a  nasty  mess.  But  if  you  can  help  me 
out,  I  will  pay  you  back  to  the  last  cent,  if  it  takes 
everything  I  have." 

No  more  was  said,  as  Paul  Bedford  came  in  at 
that  moment,  and  the  conversation  took  another 
turn. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Bothwell  was  going  to  his 
apartment  in  rather  an  unenviable  frame  of  mind. 
The  evening  had  not  brought  to  him  all  the 
enjoyment  it  promised.  He  had  counted  on 
making  a  favorable  impression  on  the  Milltrum 
household,  and  expected  that  the  laurels  of  the 
evening  would  fall  to  him.  Judith  had  spoken 
of  Uncle  Milltrum  in  such  a  way  that  he  looked 
for  an  old-fashioned  Hoosier,  who  would  appear 
very  farmerlike  —  boots  of  the  ploughman  order, 
trousers  ending  abruptly  at  the  ankle,  coat  adapted 
to  all  weathers  and  conditions,  and  whose  loud 
guffaw  would  fill  the  Milltrums'  parlor  to  over- 
flowing. Instead,  he  found  a  carefully  dressed 
old  gentleman,  whose  coat  fitted  as  well  as  his 
own,  and  who  looked  as  though  evening  clothes 
were  anything  but  a  novelty.  One  glance  at  Mr. 
Milltrum  satisfied  Mr.  Bothwell  that  the  choice 
collection  of  stories  and  the  little  bundle  of 
patronage  he  had  provided  specially  for  him 
would  not  be  necessary.  Indeed,  before  the  even- 


168      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

ing  was  half  through  he  had  discovered  that  the 
shoe  was  on  the  other  foot,  and  as  the  foot 
happened  to  be  large,  and  the  shoe  small,  Mr. 
Bothwell  was  decidedly  uncomfortable. 

Then  there  was  Paul  Bedford,  of  whom  Judith 
had  spoken  in  the  most  casual  way.  He  there- 
fore expected  to  meet  an  undersized,  underpaid, 
humble  young  clerk,  to  whom  an  evening  at  the 
Milltrums'  would  mean  a  token  of  condescension, 
involving  supreme  gratitude.  But  to  his  chagrin, 
Bedford  was  on  the  most  friendly  footing  with 
the  Milltrums, -more  than  once  addressing  Miss 
Milltrum  by  her  Christian  name,  though  in  a 
low  tone  intended  only  for  herself.  Evidently, 
his  relation  with  the  household  was  one  of  pe- 
culiar confidence,  judging  by  the  way  in  which 
they  all  treated  him. 

But  what  angered  him  more  than  anything 
else  was  the  glee  with  which  Judith  announced 
in  the  parlor  after  dinner  the  discovery  of  a  rela- 
tionship to  Paul  Bedford,  and  the  manifest  satis- 
faction she  took  in  speaking  of  him  as  her  cousin. 
This  was  serious.  Cousins,  when  two  or  three 
degrees  removed,  are  always  dangerous.  There 
is  just  enough  relationship  to  permit  of  close 
social  intercourse,  without  starting  comment, 
and  not  enough  to  prevent  the  cousinship  from 
deepening  into  something  far  more  definite. 
That  Bedford  might  easily  prove  a  dangerous 
rival,  Bothwell  had  to  admit.  He  was  undeni- 


GERALD    BOTHWELL  169 

ably  handsome,  but  there  was  something  far  more 
impressive  than  good  looks,  —  an  air  of  mental 
force,  of  moral  fibre,  that  form  of  character 
which  unites  the  daring  of  a  man  with  the  tender- 
ness of  a  woman,  Bothwell  may  have  been  de- 
ficient in  moral  force,  destitute,  possibly,  of  the 
finer  attributes  of  real  manhood,  but  he  could 
recognize  these  gifts  in  others.  Often  the  villain 
in  the  gallery,  or  the  dress  circle,  applauds  the 
hero  on  the  stage;  and  sometimes  the  woman 
in  the  boxes,  or  parquet,  who  has  sold  herself 
for  a  mess  of  pottage,  sheds  sympathetic  tears 
when  the  footlight  heroine  dies  defending  her 
virtue. 

From  every  point  of  view,  Bothwell  felt  that 
the  evening  was  a  failure.  To  a  nature  such  as 
Judith's,  he  knew  that  Paul  Bedford  would  ap- 
peal with  singular  force.  He  must,  therefore, 
bring  matters  to  a  crisis,  so  he  smiled,  an  un- 
pleasant, dangerous  smile.  By  this  time  his  cab 
had  reached  the  "  Sembrada,"  a  palatial  apart- 
ment house,  fronting  on  the  west  side  of  Central 
Park. 

On  going  to  his  rooms,  the  door  was  opened 
by  a  man  dark  enough  to  be  a  Nubian,  of  stature 
so  low  as  to  suggest  a  dwarf,  but  with  arms  and 
shoulders  like  those  of  a  giant.  In  his  ears, 
sailor-fashion,  were  small  gold  rings,  though 
there  was  nothing  of  the  seaman  in  his  apparel. 

How   long  he   had   been   in   Mr.    Bothwell's 


170      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

service,  no  one  could  tell;  the  people  of  the 
"  Sembrada  "  only  knew  that  he  came  when  Mr. 
Both  well  first  took  up  his  residence  there;  at- 
tended to  the  unpacking  and  arranging  of  the 
furniture,  and  seemed  to  understand  where  every- 
thing was  to  be  placed.  This  implied  a  familiarity 
with  Mr.  Bothwell's  possessions,  and  so  it  was 
believed  that  his  term  of  service  had  been  of 
considerable  duration.  But  here  conjecture  ended. 
And  for  the  best  of  reasons;  for  Yoba,  as  Mr. 
Bothwell  called  him,  had  lost  his  tongue,  not 
figuratively,  but  literally,  the  operation  of  glossot- 
omy  having  been  performed  in  a  very  primitive 
fashion  by  some  pirates  on  the  west  coast  of 
Africa.  Being  unable  to  read  or  write,  his  com- 
municating qualities  were  quite  limited.  But  he 
could  hear  with  extraordinary  acuteness.  And 
his  eyes  were  wonderfully  quick  and  keen.  As 
a  confidential  servant  he  was  invaluable,  for  the 
most  private  conversation  could  be  carried  on 
with  safety  in  his  presence,  and  secrets  of  what- 
ever nature  be  freely  reposed  in  him.  That  he 
served  Mr.  Bothwell  with  rare  devotion  was  very 
manifest,  and  that  he  entertained  for  him  a  sin- 
gular affection  was  equally  apparent. 

"  Any  messages,  letters,  or  telegrams,  Yoba  ?  " 
Mr.  Bothwell  inquired  as  he  went  in. 

Yoba  nodded. 

"  Any  one  called  since  I  went  out  ?  " 

Yoba  shook  his  head. 


GERALD    BOTHWELL  171 

"  Mix  me  a  drink,  and  bring  it  to  my  room  ?  " 
Again  Yoba  nodded,  and  immediately  disap- 
peared. 

If  Mr.  Milltrum  had  followed  Gerald  Both-  « 
well  to  his  room,  he  surely  would  have  repeated 
the  question  he  put  to  Bert  Vernon  concerning 
Mr.  Bothwell's  business.  And  most  certainly  he 
would  have  recalled  Bert's  reply.  For  a  stranger 
apartment  was  probably  never  seen.  It  was  Turk- 
ish, Persian,  Indian,  with  a  dash  of  Chinese  and 
African.  There  were  great  tusks  from  Africa, 
mandarin  robes  from  China,  exquisite  silks  from 
India,  silver  ornaments  of  every  imaginable 
variety  from  Persia,  and  any  quantity  of  rugs 
and  hangings  from  Turkey.  From  the  ceiling 
hung  a  lamp,  which  undoubtedly  had  diffused 
its  mellow  light  in  some  heathen  temple,  while 
on  the  floor  was  stretched  a  lion's  skin,  with  the 
head  of  the  royal  beast  so  adjusted  that  it  seemed 
instinct  with  life.  Chairs  worthy  of  a  palace  were 
disposed  so  carelessly  as  to  dull  the  sense  of  value, 
though  not  even  a  huge  Bagdad  cover  could  hide 
the  wonderful  carving  of  an  Oriental  lounge, 
which  occupied  the  space  between  a  window  and 
the  mantelpiece.  There  was  no  attempt  at  order, 
indeed,  the  rooms  were  too  crowded  to  admit  of 
any,  and  one  missed  the  touch,  mysterious  and 
undefinable,  which  proclaims  the  presence  and 
control  of  feminine  taste.  It  was  not  in  any 
sense  the  abode  of  a  sybarite,  for  there  were 


172      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

too  many  ugly  and  dangerous-looking  weapons 
around,  such  as  heavy  revolvers,  short  swords, 
breech-loading  rifles,  but  if  the  walls  had  caved 
in  after  the  manner  of  a  ship's  sides,  and  there 
had  been  port-holes  instead  of  windows,  Mr. 
Bothwell's  apartment,  at  least  the  rooms  occu- 
pied by  himself,  would  have  recalled  the  cabin 
of  an  old-time  East  Indiaman,  whose  hold  was 
unable  to  stow  all  of  its  cargo;  or  that  of  some 
pirate  of  the  Spanish  Main,  with  the  captain's 
share  of  the  plunder  heaped  within  his  own 
quarters. 

No  one  ever  entered  Mr.  Bothwell's  rooms 
during  his  absence.  On  that  point,  Yoba  had 
strict  orders.  The  guests  of  the  "  Sembrada," 
in  a  few  instances,  had  made  overtures  looking 
to  an  exchange  of  calls,  but  Yoba  either  failed 
to  comprehend  their  wishes,  or  had  been  so  in- 
structed by  Mr.  Bothwell,  that  the  leaving  of  a 
card  was  the  most  any  one  accomplished.  As 
Mr.  Bothwell's  card  was  not  sent  in  exchange, 
the  attempt  at  social  intercourse  was  not  a  bril- 
liant success.  At  rare  intervals,  Mr.  Bothwell 
entertained  visitors,  but  always  at  night,  his 
guests  coming  in  after  theatre  hours,  and  leaving 
before  morning.  Who  these  guests  were,  and 
what  their  business  was,  only  Mr.  Bothwell  and 
Yoba  knew,  and  as  the  one  wouldn't  tell,  and 
the  other  couldn't,  the  "  Sembrada  "  people  were 
left  to  their  surmisings. 


GERALD    BOTHWELL  173 

As  time  went  on,  it  became  evident  that  Mr. 
Bothwell  had  no  desire  for  anything  but  the  most 
casual  acquaintance.  He  had  his  own  table  in 
the  dining-room,  never  sharing  it  with  any  one. 
He  glanced  over  the  morning  papers  at  break- 
fast, but  no  letters,  all  mail  being,  invariably,  sent 
to  his  rooms,  and  seemingly  gave  no  heed  to  the 
other  guests  present.  He  nodded  occasionally 
to  the  men  whom  he  met  in  the  smoking-room, 
but  beyond  this  chary  exchange  of  civilities  he 
never  went.  So  now  he  came  and  went  without 
any  one  troubling  him,  for  the  "  Sembrada " 
people  had  abandoned  all  effort  to  include  him 
in  their  circle. 

Glancing  hastily  over  the  letters  Yoba  had 
brought  in,  Bothwell  selected  one,  which  must 
have  been  brought  by  a  special  messenger,  as  it 
had  no  stamp  or  postal  mark  on  the  envelope. 
Opening  it  eagerly,  he  read : 

"V.  P.  off  S.  H.  Something  must  be  done 
to-night.  Will  wait  for  you." 

To  the  average  mind,  an  unsigned  note,  writ- 
ten in  pencil  on  a  piece  of  coarse  paper,  might 
not  mean  very  much,  but  this  was  not  the  case 
with  Mr.  Bothwell. 

"  Yoba,  get  out  my  V.  P.  togs,  and  be  quick, 
like  a  good  fellow.  Then  get  into  your  own. 
We  are  going  out  to-night." 

Yoba  nodded,  smiled,  hastened  to  a  trunk 
hidden  in  another  room,  and  in  five  minutes  Mr. 


174      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Bothwell  had  exchanged  his  unimpeachable  even- 
ing clothes  for  those  of  the  captain  of  a  coaster, 
and  Yoba  from  a  well-dressed  house  servant  was 
transformed  to  an  able-bodied  seaman.  Hasten- 
ing to  the  nearest  "  L  "  station,  Mr.  Bothwell  and 
Yoba  were  soon  on  their  way  down-town,  and 
ere  long  reached  Burling  Slip. 


IV. 

SAXBY  VERSUS  MILLTRUM 


M, 


.R.  MILLTRUM  was  in  a  philosophic  mood, 
not  an  unusual  thing  with  elderly  gentlemen,  who 
have  dined  comfortably,  wined  respectably,  and 
whose  after-dinner  cigar  is  of  the  brand  which 
tends  to  amiable  reflection. 

On  this  particular  evening  he  had  been  dining 
at  the  Holland  House  with  Paul  Bedford,  and 
after  dinner,  in  Paul's  sitting-room,  had  various 
things  to  say. 

"  It  isn't  any  use,  Paul.  We  may  try  to  regu- 
late our  lives  in  every  possible  way,  but  the  wise 
man  will  always  allow  a  wide  margin  for  con- 
tingencies. The  engineer  in  charge  of  our  train 
has  a  way  of  disregarding  signals,  running  past 
stations,  sometimes  getting  switched  off  the  track, 
and  all  our  pulling  at  the  bell-rope  or  shouting 
from  the  car-window  won't  affect  him  in  the 
least." 

Mr.  Milltrum  leaned  back  contentedly  in  his 
chair,  and  looked  pleasantly  at  Paul,  whose  face 
was  more  serious  than  usual. 

176 


176      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Sometimes  it  seems  as  if  the  engineer  had 
fallen  asleep,"  Mr.  Milltrum  continued,  "  and 
the  train  was  having  things  its  own  way." 

"  That  is  all  very  well  when  the  track  is  clear, 
otherwise  there  is  a  chance  of  trouble,"  Paul  said, 
looking  suggestively  at  Mr.  Milltrum,  then  flick- 
ing the  ashes  from  his  cigar. 

"  Saxby  &  Co.  at  it  again  ?  "  Mr.  Milltrum 
inquired. 

"  Yes."    Paul's  tone  was  that  of  annoyance. 

"  Anything  new  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  they  have  gone  in  with  Bothwell,  and 
are  trying  to  block  our  G.  S.  &  W." 

"  How  in  creation  did  Bothwell  know  of  G.  S. 
&  W.?" 

"  That  is  a  mystery.  But  he  found  out  some- 
how." 

"  He  couldn't  have  got  a  hint  from  Chicago  ?  " 

"  No  one  in  Chicago  knew  anything  about  it," 
Paul  answered,  moodily,  for  he  had  been  seriously 
troubled  concerning  this  matter. 

"  The  business  was  only  settled  a  few  days 
ago,"  Mr.  Milltrum  said,  reflectively.  "  We 
talked  it  over  at  my  nieces'  the  other  evening 
when  you  were  there." 

"  Yes,  but  we  were  alone  at  the  time.  The 
Misses  Milltrum,  you  may  remember,  went  out 
after  dinner,  and  Judith,  having  a  headache,  re- 
tired early." 

"  So  Bothwell  has  given  the  cue  to  Saxby  ?  " 


SAXBY    VERSUS    MILLTRUM       177 

"  No  doubt  about  it.  The  result,  you  can 
imagine." 

For  a  few  moments,  Mr.  Milltrum  sat  holding 
his  cigar  between  his  thumb  and  finger.  He  was 
not  a  philosopher  now.  The  comfortably  dined 
and  respectably  wined  gentleman  who  had  come 
up-stairs  an  hour  before  had  gone,  and  in  his 
stead  was  the  keen,  daring  financier,  who  felt 
that  a  mighty  battle  awaited  him  on  the  coming 
morrow,  and  for  which  every  energy  would  be 
called  into  play.  This  G.  S.  &  W.  was  a  darling 
scheme  of  his.  For  years  he  had  been  planning 
a  consolidation  of  certain  railroads,  which,  if 
accomplished,  would  mean  a  system  larger  and 
more  powerful  than  the  country  had  yet  seen. 

Paul  had  been  at  work  ever  since  coming  to 
New  York  perfecting  the  details,  and  in  a  few 
days  expected  that  everything  would  be  ready. 
The  utmost  secrecy  had  been  observed.  Not  a 
whisper  had  been  heard  on  the  street.  No  one, 
seemingly,  suspected  the  possibility  of  such  a 
movement.  And  now  Bothwell  had  discovered 
it !  But  worse,  far  worse,  he  had  formed  a  com- 
bination with  Mr.  Saxby. 

"  Now,  Paul,"  Mr.  Milltrum  said,  rising  from 
his  chair,  and  walking  across  the  room  with  the 
vigor  of  a  young  man,  his  eyes  flashing,  and  his 
face  intense  with  excitement,  "  you  know  what 
G.  S.  &  W.  means  to  me.  It  must  go  through,  no 
matter  who  is  hurt.  I  give  you  a  free  hand,  and 


178      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

by  this  time  you  know  what  that  means.  Fight 
it  in  your  own  way,  but  fight  it  to  a  finish,  if  it 
takes  every  penny  I  have  in  the  world." 

"  Of  course  it  must  go  through,"  Paul  re- 
plied, decidedly.  "  We  are  sponsors  for  it,  and 
the  credit  of  the  house  is  involved.  But  I  am 
not  troubled  on  that  account.  I  am  sorry,  though, 
for  Mr.  Saxby.  Unless  he  is  careful,  he  may 
get  hurt,  and  so  seriously  as  to  cripple  him. 
I  never  can  forget,  Mr.  Milltrum,  that  he  is 
Miriam's  father.  That  he  should  persistently 
get  in  the  way  distresses  me  exceedingly." 

"  My  dear  Paul,  if  you  desire  to  hate  a  man 
everlastingly,  do  him  an  injury.  The  man  who 
hurts  me,  I  can  easily  forgive,  but  when  I  hurt 
a  man,  I  never  forgive  him." 

Mr.  Milltrum,  now  that  G.  S.  &  W.  had  been 
disposed  of,  resumed  his  role  of  philosopher. 

"  You  mean  that  Mr.  Saxby  —  ?  " 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean.  There  is  no  use 
in  mincing  matters." 

"  But  we  have  been  kind  to  him." 

"  Which  only  makes  him  more  bitter.  My 
dear  fellow,  Saxby  would  gladly  go  bankrupt 
to-morrow,  if,  by  doing  so,  he  could  pull  us  down 
with  him.  But  let  us  talk  about  something  else. 
I  have  no  patience  with  Saxby,  and  if  he  has  been 
foolish  enough  to  get  in  the  way  of  G.  S.  &  W., 
he  must  take  the  consequences." 

"  How  about  Both  well  ?  "    There  was  a  gleam 


SAXBY    VERSUS    MILLTRUM       179 

of  mischief  in  Paul  Bedford's  eyes  as  he  asked 
this  question,  for  Mr.  Milltrum's  first  dislike  of 
Bothwell  had  deepened  into  positive  hatred. 

"  Speaking  of  Bothwell  reminds  me,"  said  Mr. 
Milltrum,  lighting  another  cigar,  and  assuming 
the  attitude  of  one  who  had  a  good  story  to  tell, 
"  that,  at  the  suggestion  of  Bert  Vernon,  I  went 
a  short  time  since  to  Cranburg's  —  " 

"  To  Cranburg's !  "  Paul  interrupted,  incredu- 
lously. 

"  Yes,  to  Cranburg's.    Why  not?  " 

"  I  thought  you  had  outgrown  your  youthful 
follies." 

"  In  which  you  are  much  mistaken." 

"  I  shall  have  to  tell  Peggy." 

"  Peggy  was  there  at  the  same  time." 

"What!" 

"  Don't  jump  at  me  that  way,  Paul.  Please 
remember  how  nervous  and  easily  frightened  I 
am."  Mr.  Milltrum's  smile  just  then  was  a  fine 
piece  of  work,  and  on  the  stage  would  have  been 
worth  a  gold  mine. 

"  And  you  say  Peggy  was  at  Cranburg's  ?  " 

Paul  could  not  persuade  himself  that  Mr.  Mill- 
trum was  serious. 

"  I  do,  for  I  saw  her,  and  what  is  more,  she 
went  there  with  my  consent." 

"  Mr.  Milltrum,  if  any  other  man  told  me  that 
I  would  knock  him  down." 

"  Certainly ;    so  would  I,  provided  he  didn't 


180      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

happen  to  be  stronger  and  bigger  than  I  am. 
There  are  times,  Paul,  when  I  hesitate  to  go  into 
the  knocking  down  business." 

"  But  what  on  earth  induced  Peggy  to  enter 
such  a  place?"  Never  did  a  man's  face  more 
perfectly  express  bewilderment  than  Paul  Bed- 
ford's at  that  moment. 

"  Well,  after  Bert  Vernon  told  me  of  his  ex- 
perience in  Cranburg's,  and  of  Bothwell  going 
with  him  to  Neumarck's,  —  Bert  told  you  the 
whole  story,  which  was  plucky  of  him,  —  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  investigate  on  my  own  account. 
But  I  was  puzzled  and  didn't  just  know  how  to  go 
about  it.  So  I  took  Peggy  into  my  confidence, 
hoping  that  her  woman's  wit  might  help  me  out. 
And  it  did,  Paul.  My  stars,  who  but  a  woman, 
and  such  a  woman  as  Peggy,  would  ever  have 
thought  of  such  a  scheme !  Don't  hurry  me,  Paul. 
I  won't  be  hurried.  Count  yourself  lucky  in  being 
told  the  story  and  not  have  to  work  it  out  as  I  had. 
Well,  I  suggested  to  Peggy  that  it  would  be  a 
good  thing  if  Bert  Vernon  could  bring  some 
evening  to  Cranburg's  a  young  '  innocent,'  and 
turn  him  loose  to  see,  you  know,  what  Bothwell 
would  do  with  him.  She  thought  the  idea  a 
capital  one,  and  wrote  to  Bert  Vernon  that  same 
evening.  Bert  came  to  the  house  when  I  was 
out,  but  she  arranged  everything  with  him,  and 
he  promised  to  bring  up  a  young  friend  of  his, 
a  dapper  little  Englishman,  whom  he  had  met 


SAXBY    VERSUS    MILLTRUM       181 

the  last  time  he  was  in  London.  Peggy  said 
she  would  drill  him  in  his  part,  and  give  him 
a  code  of  signals,  which  Bert  Vernon  would 
understand.  Peggy,  you  know,  had  stage  fever 
at  one  time,  went  in  for  the  dramatics,  took  les- 
sons down  here  on  Union  Square,  and  for  a 
time  cut  up  all  sorts  of  capers.  I  really  thought 
one  while  she  would  go  on  the  stage,  and  I  de- 
clare I  wouldn't  have  blamed  her,  for  she  had 
the  stuff  to  make  a  big  success  of  it.  All  this  is 
news  to  you,  I  can  tell  by  your  face,  but  it  is 
true,  nevertheless.  It  was  arranged  by  Peggy 
that  I  was  to  meet  the  little  Englishman  at  Cran- 
burg's,  for  if  I  went  with  him,  it  might  be  sus- 
pected that  he  belonged  to  our  party.  When  I 
went  in  Bert  Vernon  introduced  me  to  as  spruce 
a  specimen  of  bandbox  nobility  as  I  ever  saw. 
He  had  the  Dundreary  lisp,  the  Chamberlain  eye- 
glass, and  all  the  *  haw  aw  yaw  '  tomfooleries  one 
could  desire.  Bothwell  came  along  as  I  was 
speaking  to  Lord  Poldrum,  as  Bert  called  the 
Englishman,  and  said  he  was  surprised  to  see 
me,  but  laughed  in  that  way  he  has,  and  suggested 
what  he  called  a  friendly  little  game. 

"  Bert  proposed,  instead,  taking  me  to  see  some 
pictures,  which  were  in  another  room,  so  we 
went  off,  leaving  the  little  lord  with  Bothwell. 
We  were  gone  nearly  half  an  hour,  and  when 
we  came  back  Lord  Bandbox  was  playing  one  of 
the  stiffest  games  I  ever  saw.  He  lost  money 


182      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

in  handfuls,  and  when  his  cash  was  gone,  gave 
paper,  just  as  Peggy  had  arranged.  I  then  saw 
Bothwell  make  a  sign  to  the  cashier,  after  which 
he  whispered  something  to  Bert  Vernon.  Bert 
nodded,  so  the  game  went  on,  the  Englishman 
having  a  run  of  awful  poor  luck.  Finally,  Lord 
Bandbox  stopped,  and  intimated  to  Bert  that  he 
would  have  to  cable  next  day  for  money.  Both- 
well  then  smiled  at  Bert,  Bert  at  the  little  lord, 
and  it  was  arranged  that  Neumarck  should  tide 
over  the  Englishman's  troubles. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Paul  Bedford,  you  will  probably 
think  that  I  am  half  blind,  three-quarters  deaf, 
and  four-fourths  hopelessly  stupid,  but  that  little 
English  lord  was  Peggy!  Yes,  Peggy!  My 
soul,  how  she  has  laughed  at  me  since!  Why 
didn't  I  recognize  her  ?  Because  her  own  mother, 
one  of  the  smartest  women  I  ever  knew,  wouldn't 
have  recognized  her.  Yes,  you  laugh,  and  think 
it  was  a  great  joke  on  a  doting  old  man,  but  just 
remember  that  Bothwell  was  fooled  a  hundred 
times  more  than  I  was!  I'd  give  half  of  the 
profits  of  G.  S.  &  W.  to  be  able  to  stage  that 
scene  in  Cranburg's.  Paul,  I  tell  you  it  was  the 
funniest  thing  I  ever  saw.  There  was  I,  hob- 
nobbing, as  I  imagined,  with  a  real  lord.  And 
it  was  '  My  lord,  may  I  get  you  this,'  and  '  My 
lord,  may  I  have  the  pleasure/  and  think  of  it 
being  Peggy  all  the  while!  You  haven't  been 
to  the  house  since.  No,  of  course  not,  as  you 


SAXBY    VERSUS    MILLTRUM       183 

only  returned  to  the  city  yesterday.  Bert  Vernon 
will  probably  give  you  his  version  with  imita- 
tions and  variations.  Well,  I  have  nothing  to 
say.  I  know  when  the  joke  is  on  me.  But  think 
of  Peggy  being  able  to  fool  Bothwell !  My  lord ! 
and  my  Peggy !  Isn't  it  a  good  one,  Paul  ?  " 

Mr.  Milltrum  laughed  until  it  seemed  as  if  he 
would  go  to  pieces,  but,  though  he  choked  and 
coughed  and  nearly  strangled,  he  kept  it  up,  and 
finally  started  Paul,  so  that  he  forgot  his  moodi- 
ness  and  anxiety,  and  laughed  more  heartily  than 
he  had  done  for  years. 

.  "  No  question  about  it  now,"  Mr.  Milltrum 
said,  after  a  time,  "  Bothwell  is  in  league  with 
Cranburg;  thanks  to  Peggy,  we  have  discovered 
that." 

"  He  is  also  in  league  with  Mr.  Saxby,"  Paul 
replied,  "  and  perhaps  Peggy  may  help  us  in  that, 
also." 

It  was  now  comparatively  late,  and  after  a  few 
more  suggestions  relative  to  G.  S.  &  W.  Mr. 
Milltrum  left  the  Holland  House  for  the  home 
of  his  nieces  on  Madison  Avenue. 

Instead  of  going  to  his  room,  Paul  sent  a  long 
telegram  to  Mr.  Saxby  at  Pelham.  It  was  a 
strangely  worded  telegram,  unlike  the  simple, 
direct  messages  which  he  usually  wrote.  Mr. 
Saxby  was  in  his  library  when  the  telegram  ar- 
rived, and  with  him  were  Mr,  Bothwell  and  Mr. 
Crewe. 


184      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Mr.  Saxby  opened  the  telegram  carelessly,  for 
he  was  listening  intently  to  Mr.  Bothwell,  who 
was  then  saying: 

"  We  can  block  it,  Mr.  Saxby.  They  can't 
get  one-quarter  of  the  stock.  Of  that  I  am  posi- 
tive. So  there  is  an  opportunity  to  force  them 
to  the  wall." 

Then  Mr.  Saxby  read  the  telegram,  and  as 
he  did  so  a  perplexed  look  came  over  his  face, 
something  not  common  with  him,  for  he  usually 
knew  what  he  intended  doing  one  way  or  the 
other. 

"  Are  you  certain,  Mr.  Bothwell  ?  This  is  a 
serious  matter.  A  slip  or  a  misstep  is  as  bad  as 
a  fall.  To  throw  down  the  glove  in  this  instance 
means  more  than  some  may  imagine." 

'Mr.  Crewe  was  the  speaker,  and  he  meant  well, 
but  he  was  unfortunate  in  hinting  at  the  gravity 
of  a  struggle  with  Milltrum  Bros.  For  this  only 
excited  Mr.  Saxby's  anger,  and  when  a  man  is 
angry  his  judgment  is  beclouded  and  his  reason 
unsteady. 

"  What  is  your  opinion  of  this  ?  "  he  asked, 
handing  to  Bothwell  Paul  Bedford's  telegram. 

"  Just  what  I  have  been  saying  all  along,"  he 
said,  exultingly,  as  he  read  the  message.  "  You 
have  them  now  at  your  mercy.  And  this  will 
be  a  good  time  to  settle  old  scores." 

There  was  no  perplexity  on  Mr.  Bothwell's 
face,  nor  indecision  of  any  sort.  Already  he  was 


SAXBY    VERSUS    MILLTRUM       185 

gloating  over  the  terrible  fall  of  his  hated  rival, 
and  the  bankruptcy  of  the  once  powerful  Mill- 
trum  Bros. 

"  And  what  is  your  opinion,  Mr.  Crewe  ?  " 

"  Exactly  the  opposite  of  Mr.  Bothwell's. 
I  know  Paul  Bedford.  That  telegram  is  no 
*  squeal.'  I  regard  it  as  a  friendly  warning,  and 
if  my  advice  is  asked,  I  am  prepared  to  give  it," 
and  Mr.  Crewe  handed  the  telegram  back  to  Mr. 
Saxby. 

Here  again  Mr.  Crewe  blundered,  by  suggest- 
ing that  the  house  of  Saxby  &  Co.  should  permit 
a  warning  under  any  circumstances.  Was  it  not 
strong  enough  to  fight  its  own  battles?  Had 
things  come  to  such  a  pass  that  a  rival  house, 
in  sheer  pity,  must  send  it  a  warning  telegram, 
and  thus  save  it  from  loss?  The  idea  of  such 
a  thing  was  simply  maddening  to  Mr.  Saxby, 
so  he  took  Paul  Bedford's  telegram  from  the 
table,  tore  it  into  fragments,  and  resumed  with 
Mr.  Bothwell  the  conversation  which  had  been 
interrupted. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged,  but  I  cannot  possi- 
bly stay  all  night,"  Mr.  Crewe  said,  when  politely 
asked  by  Mr.  Saxby  to  remain.  Under  ordinary 
circumstances,  Mr.  Saxby  would  have  so  insisted 
that  Mr.  Crewe  could  not  have  declined  without 
giving  offence,  but  Mr.  Crewe  had  offended  Mr. 
Saxby;  he  had  counselled  accepting  an  olive- 
branch  from  Milltrum  Bros.,  and  so  was  allowed 


186      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

to  leave  the  Saxby  mansion  with  merely  formal 
regrets.  But  Mr.  Crewe  did  a  singular  thing 
when  he  went  to  New  York,  for,  instead  of  going 
home,  he  drove  straight  to  the  Holland  House, 
and  though  past  midnight,  he  insisted  on  having 
his  card  sent  up  to  Paul  Bedford's  room.  And 
then  he  did  a  yet  stranger  thing,  for  he  not  only 
went  to  Paul's  room,  remaining  there  for  nearly 
an  hour,  but,  on  coming  down,  he  wrote  at  least 
a  score  of  telegrams,  taking  them  to  a  Western 
Union  office  near  by,  where  they  were  sent  off 
instantly.  One  of  these  messages  was  to  his  own 
home,  saying  that  business  would  detain  him  in 
the  city  overnight,  but  it  did  not  say  he  was 
staying  at  the  Holland  House  as  Paul  Bedford's 
guest. 

This,  however,  was  the  case. 


V. 

EAVESDROPPING 

'N  the  evening  to  which  Paul  Bedford  re- 
ferred in  his  conversation  with  Mr.  Milltrum, 
when  he  spoke  of  having  talked  over  G.  S.  &  W. 
matters  at  the  house  of  the  Misses  Milltrum, 
Judith  Carreau  pleaded  a  severe  headache  as  an 
excuse  for  retiring  to  her  room  soon  after  dinner. 
And,  judging  by  appearances,  Miss  Carreau  was 
justified  in  her  request.  Her  face  had  a  flushed, 
feverish  look ;  her  eyes  drooped  wearily  as  though 
affected  by  the  light,  and  she  had  a  tense,  drawn 
expression,  like  one  struggling  with  severe  pain. 
Usually  when  Mr.  Milltrum  and  Paul  came  to 
dinner  she  shared  generously  in  the  conversation, 
sometimes  with  a  sparkle  and  vivacity  that  were 
irresistible.  Adopting  the  language  of  the  home, 
she  addressed  Mr.  Milltrum  as  "  Uncle  Lewis," 
a  title  to  which  he  responded  with  affectionate 
interest;  and  now  that  her  kinship  with  Paul 
Bedford  was  established  and  understood,  she 
rarely  hesitated  to  speak  of  him  as  "  Cousin 
Paul,"  a  familiarity  of  which  he  gladly  availed 
187 


188      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

himself.  But  on  this  particular  evening  Judith 
was  very  quiet,  hardly  speaking  except  in  answer 
to  some  direct  question,  and  then  in  the  briefest 
possible  way.  Once  or  twice,  when  Paul  looked 
anxiously  at  her,  she  turned  aside  so  as  to  avoid 
his  glance,  and  when  Mr.  Milltrum  spoke  to  her, 
even  more  kindly  than  usual,  her  lips  trembled, 
and  tears  came  to  her  eyes. 

"  I  don't  know  what  has  come  over  Judith 
for  the  last  few  days,"  Miss  Milltrum  said  to 
Maud,  as  they  went  up-stairs  to  prepare  for  a 
reception  at  the"  Savoy.  "  She  isn't  at  all  like 
herself.  Of  course  you  have  noticed  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  nervous,  easily  disturbed,  will 
start  and  appear  frightened  without  any  apparent 
cause,  but  I'm  not  surprised,  Peggy." 

"What,  then,  is  the  trouble?" 

By  this  time  the  ladies  had  reached  Miss  Mill- 
trum's  sitting-room,  the  door  of  which  Maud  shut 
as  she  went  in. 

"  Too  much  B.,  Peggy,  too  much  B." 

"  You  don't  mean  that  Paul  Bedford  and  Mr. 
Bothwell  are  —  " 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean.  Before  Paul  came, 
when  Mr.  Bothwell  had  everything  his  own  way, 
Judith  seemed  content  to  let  matters  take  their 
course.  But  now  she  is  undecided.  From  our 
standpoint,  there  is  no  comparison  whatever  be- 
tween the  two  men.  Paul  is  a  splendid  fellow, 
with  more  manhood  in  his  little  finger  than  Mr. 


EAVESDROPPING  189 

Bothwell  has  in  his  whole  body  ten  times  over. 
But  love,  they  say,  is  blind.  And  it  must  be  blind 
as  a  bat,  and  with  no  more  sense  than  a  gosling 
just  out  of  its  shell.  Most  of  the  marriages  I 
see  remind  me  of  blind  man's  buff,  only  that  two 
are  blinded  instead  of  one." 

"  But  Paul  hasn't  shown  any  special  attention 
to  Judith,  at  least,  not  enough  to  justify  her 
in  —  " 

"  Falling  in  love  with  him  ?  I  didn't  say  she 
had.  But  she  has  come  to  the  point  of  measur- 
ing one  against  the  other." 

"  Then  she  is  not  in  love  with  Mr.  Bothwell, 
for  love,  at  least  the  love  that  we  read  of,  and 
which  I  suppose  is  the  genuine  thing,  doesn't 
enter  into  calculations,  and  check  off  balances 
after  the  fashion  of  a  bank  clerk." 

"  I  didn't  say,  Peggy,  that  she  was  in  love 
with  Mr.  Bothwell.  I  merely  said  she  had  reached 
the  point  of  comparison,  in  which  one  B  was 
contrasted  with  the  other  B.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, Mr.  Bothwell  has  in  some  way  acquired 
a  strong  influence  over  Judith,  for  which  I  am 
very  sorry." 

"  Singular  how  such  a  man  can  obtain  a  foot- 
ing in  New  York.  No  one  seems  to  know 
anything  about  him.  He  reminds  me  at  times 
of  Monte-Cristo.  Over  at  the  '  Sembrada,' 
where  his  apartments  are,  not  a  soul  has  the 
slightest  acquaintance  with  him.  You  know  what 


190      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

a  bright,  keen-witted  woman  Mrs.  Ibstone  is, 
sharp  as  a  needle  and  deliciously  assurant;  one 
who  rarely  gives  up  without  gaining  her  point. 
Well,  though  she  lives  at  the  '  Sembrada/  and, 
in  her  way,  has  made  every  possible  effort  to  reach 
Mr.  Bothwell,  she  hasn't  been  able  to  do  it.  He 
comes  and  goes  most  mysteriously,  sometimes 
taking  as  many  trunks  as  a  woman  going  to 
Newport  for  the  season,  then  again  having  only 
a  hand-bag,  like  a  man  going  off  merely  for  the 
night.  All  that  Bert  Vernon  knows  is  what  he 
told  uncle.  There  is  something  very  strange 
about  the  whole  business." 

"  Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  that  Judith  may 
have  met  Mr.  Bothwell  before  she  came  to  New 
York?" 

Maud  looked  keenly  at  her  sister  as  she  asked 
this  question.  Miss  Milltrum  paused  a  moment 
or  two  before  replying,  then  she  said : 

"  I  have  had  that  feeling  at  times,  but  it  seemed 
so  improbable  that  I  dismissed  it." 

"  Why  is  it  improbable  ?  Mr.  Bothwell  is  in 
the  shipping  business,  his  trade,  according  to 
Bert  Vernon,  being  largely  with  the  South.  Mr. 
Carreau  was  also  in  the  shipping  business,  and 
from  what  Judith  says,  was  mostly  connected 
with  the  North.  Why,  then,  might  they  not  have 
met?  I  am  certain,  Peggy,  that  Judith  and  Mr. 
Bothwell  are  not  such  strangers  as  they  pretend 


EAVESDROPPING  191 

to  be.  And  the  influence  he  has  over  her  may 
result  from  their  acquaintance  in  New  Or- 
leans." 

"  She  has  no  suspicion  of  my  visit  to  Cran- 
burg's?" 

"  Not  the  slightest." 

"  I  wish  there  was  some  way  of  letting  her 
know  that  we  suspect  Mr.  Bothwell  of  being  in 
league  with  Cranburg." 

"  Unless  we  have  more  than  suspicions,  it  is 
better  to  wait.  We  have  really  no  business  with 
her  affairs.  Uncle  Lewis  is  only  her  nominal 
guardian.  She  is  our  guest,  nothing  more,  and 
owes  us  neither  duty  nor  obedience." 

"  That  is  true,"  Miss  Milltrum  said,  rising 
from  her  chair,  and  going  to  her  dressing- 
room,  Maud  doing  the  same.  Soon  after,  they 
were  in  the  carriage  on  their  way  to  the  "  Sa- 
voy." 

When  they  had  gone,  Mr.  Milltrum  suggested 
to  Paul  an  adjournment  to  the  library,  the  large 
table  there  affording  space  for  some  maps  he 
was  anxious  to  consult.  So  they  went  to  the 
library,  Paul  drawing  the  heavy  portiere  across 
the  doorway,  Mr.  Milltrum,  meanwhile,  unrolling 
several  maps,  and  spreading  them  out.  Hardly 
had  they  begun  on  what  promised  to  be  a  serious 
business  before  a  door  was  softly  opened  on  the 
floor  above,  then  a  woman  crept  stealthily  down 
the  stairs,  finally  reaching  the  hall  just  outside 


192      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

the  library  door.  It  was  Judith!  And  she  was 
playing  the  part  of  eavesdropper,  listening  ea- 
gerly to  every  word, .  and  once  or  twice  making 
notes  on  a  tablet,  which  she  held  in  her  hand! 
As  the  servants  were  all  down-stairs,  and  it  was 
known  that  the  Misses  Milltrum  had  gone  out 
for  the  evening,  Judith  was  not  afraid  of  inter- 
ruption or  discovery,  so  she  almost  touched  the 
heavy  portieres,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  peer 
in  between  the  curtain  and  the  door-frame.  Hav- 
ing no  cause  to  suspect  listeners,  Mr.  Milltrum 
and  Paul  spoke  freely  to  each  other,  Mr.  Mill- 
trum, at  times,  raising  his  voice  much  higher 
than  was  necessary.  But  whenever  he  discussed 
G.  S.  &  W.  with  Paul,  he  invariably  waxed  elo- 
quent. And  eloquence  is  something  which  will 
not  be  restrained  in  whispers.  He  therefore 
spoke  with  considerable  vehemence,  warming  up 
to  it  as  the  various  advantages  of  the  big  rail- 
road combination  presented  themselves.  Paul 
was  less  demonstrative  than  Mr.  Milltrum,  still 
there  was  a  light  in  his  eye  and  a  flush  on  his 
face,  which  betrayed  something  of  the  excitement 
he  felt.  After  a  time  the  maps  were  rolled  up 
and  put  away  in  their  covers,  and  the  conversa- 
tion drifted  into  other  channels.  Then  Judith 
crept  up-stairs  as  noiselessly  as  she  had  come 
down,  and,  on  reaching  her  room,  went  to  her 
desk  and  wrote: 


EAVESDROPPING  193 

"  DEAR  GERALD  :  —  Meet  me  to-morrow  at  the 
usual  place.  I  have  something  to  tell  you. 

"  JUDITH." 

Having1  sealed  and  directed  the  envelope,  she 
took  the  letter  to  the  mail-bag  in  the  hall,  then, 
returning  to  her  room,  lay  down  on  the  lounge, 
where  the  Misses  Milltrum  found  her  on  their 
return  from  the  "  Savoy." 

The  next  day  she  seemed  much  better,  and 
in  the  early  afternoon  went  for  a  short  walk 
in  the  park.  If  any  one  had  followed  her,  she 
would  have  been  seen  to  walk  rapidly  along  the 
Mall,  pass  under  the  bridge,  and  hasten  towards 
the  lake.  Then  Mr.  Bothwell  might  have  been 
seen  walking  from  the  lake,  meeting  her  before 
she  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stone  steps. 
To  follow  them  any  farther  would  be  useless, 
for  their  voices  were  so  low  that  no  one,  how- 
ever anxious,  could  catch  a  word  they  said. 
When  their  conversation  ended,  Judith  returned 
to  the  Milltrums',  accompanied  by  Mr.  Bothwell, 
who  afterwards  hastened  down-town  to  Mr. 
Saxby's  office,  where  he  remained  for  some 
time. 

These  mysterious  circumstances  may  help  to 
explain  what  had  puzzled  Paul  Bedford,  —  how 
Mr.  Bothwell  heard  of  the  proposed  G.  S.  &  W. 
deal. 


194      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Mr.  Saxby,  on  the  morning  after  his  consul- 
tation with  Mr.  Both-well,  determined  to  throw 
his  whole  strength  against  G.  S.  &  W.,  confident 
that  before  the  Stock  Exchange  closed  he  would 
achieve  the  most  brilliant  victory  of  his  life.  To 
this  end  he  was  at  his  office  unusually  early,  that 
he  might  arrange  his  forces,  and  prepare  for  the 
battle  which  was  at  hand.  Unfortunately,  he  had 
not  said  anything  to  Mr.  Crewe  of  his  intentions, 
and  as  the  safes  were  all  set  by  time  locks,  he 
could  not  do  much  with  the  extra  hour  at  his 
disposal.  So  he  fumed  and  fretted  and  worked 
himself  up  into  a  high  state  of  irritation,  the 
very  worst  thing  under  the  circumstances.  If 
a  man  is  going  to  fight  a  duel,  his  arm  will  be 
unsteady,  his  eye  blurred,  his  aim  wild,  should 
he  be  so  foolish  as  to  sit  up  half  the  night  writ- 
ing farewell  letters,  and  waste  the  other  half  in 
eager,  feverish  desire  to  meet  the  one  who  has 
challenged  him.  That  was  exactly  Mr.  Saxby's 
condition.  So  he  kept  looking  at  the  clock  in 
his  private  office,  then  at  his  watch,  then  at  the 
door,  wondering  if  Mr.  Crewe  intended  to  come 
at  all.  Finally  he  came,  though  not  the  suave, 
confident  Mr.  Crewe  of  yesterday,  but  an  anx- 
ious, careworn  man,  who  looked  as  though  the 
night  had  been  one  of  serious  toil.  Mr.  Saxby 
misconstrued  these  signs,  and,  remembering  that 
Mr.  Crewe  had  declined  his  invitation  to  remain 
at  Pelham,  concluded  that  the  night  had  been 


EAVESDROPPING  195 

spent  in  a  way  not  uncommon  with  Wall  Street 
men  who  have  more  money  than  sense. 

"  You  are  late,  Mr.  Crewe,"  he  said,  sharply. 

Mr.  Crewe  looked  at  the  clock,  but  made  no 
reply. 

"  I  have  been  here  nearly  an  hour,"  Mr.  Saxby 
said,  even  more  sharply,  "  but  it  has  not  done  me 
any  good.  On  such  a  morning  as  this,  sir,  no 
one  should  wait  for  ordinary  office  hours.  Have 
you  forgotten,  Mr.  Crewe,  the  matters  of  which 
we  were  speaking  last  evening?  " 

"  No,  sir !  "  The  tone  was  respectful,  but 
nothing  more.  Mr.  Crewe  had  occasional  mo- 
ments when  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
meant  something  more  than  a  musty  old  parch- 
ment. 

"  My  affairs  are  evidently  of  less  importance 
than  other  matters,"  Mr.  Saxby  said,  looking 
angrily  at  Mr.  Crewe. 

Just  then  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
rustled  in  the  soul  of  Mr.  Crewe.  And  he  felt 
it.  So  with  a  flash  of  fire  from  his  eyes,  and  a 
flush  of  indignation  on  his  cheeks,  he  said : 

"  Mr.  Saxby,  please  accept  my  resignation,  to 
take  effect  at  your  earliest  convenience." 

This  was  surely  a  bad  beginning  for  the  day's 
battle.  Mr.  Crewe  was  a  host  in  himself,  and 
if  it  were  known  that  he  had  withdrawn  from 
the  firm  of  Saxby  &  Co.,  the  results  might  be 
serious.  Mr.  Saxby  knew  this.  But  those  whom 


196      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

the  gods  would  destroy  they  first  make  mad. 
Evidently,  they  wanted  to  destroy  Mr.  Saxby, 
for  he  was  mad  enough  to  do  anything.  With- 
out, therefore,  abating  anything  of  his  curt, 
sharp  tone,  increasing  it  rather,  he  said: 

"  Your  resignation  is  accepted,  sir,  and  to  take 
effect  now." 

Without  another  word,  Mr.  Crewe  went  out 
from  Mr.  Saxby's  private  office  into  the  one  he 
had  occupied  for  several  years.  There  he  took 
from  his  pocket  a  number  of  telegrams,  and  put 
them  on  his  desk,  together  with  some  papers 
marked  private. 

"  I  am  going  out  for  a  few  minutes,"  he  said 
to  one  of  the  clerks ;  "  if  I  am  not  back  in  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour,  give  these  telegrams  and  papers 
to  Mr.  Saxby,  or  if  he  asks  for  them,  say  they 
are  on  my  desk."  Mr.  Crewe  then  went  out,  no 
one  suspecting  anything  of  what  had  taken  place. 

He  had  not  been  gone  five  minutes  before  Mr. 
Saxby  made  inquiries  regarding  the  telegrams 
and  papers  of  which  Mr.  Crewe  had  spoken,  and 
they  were  instantly  brought  to  him.  Then  fol- 
lowed about  as  bad  an  hour  as  Mr.  Saxby  ever 
had.  Usually,  a  superb  master  of  himself,  and 
able  to  meet  losses  without  showing  a  sign,  in 
this  instance  the  defeat  was  so  overwhelming 
that  he  would  have  been  more  than  human  had 
he  not  felt  it  bitterly.  The  first  telegram  that 
he  read  —  they  had  all  been  opened  by  Mr.  Crewe, 


EAVESDROPPING  197 

and  were  answers  to  messages  he  had  sent  the 
night  before  —  was  from  a  leading  firm  in  Bos- 
ton, one  on  whose  support  Mr.  Saxby  had  con- 
fidently relied.  It  was  simple,  but  decisive. 

"  We  are  pledged  to  Milltrum  Bros.,  and  favor 
the  scheme." 

Another  was  from  Philadelphia,  and  said  prac- 
tically the  same  thing.  One,  still  more  important, 
came  from  Baltimore,  and  so  on  down  the  list. 
Then  he  remembered  Paul  Bedford's  message, 
and  the  warning  it  conveyed.  And  he  also 
remembered  the  instructions  given  to  his  brokers 
in  the  heat  and  excitement  of  the  night  before. 
Looking  at  the  clock,  he  saw  that  the  Stock  Ex- 
change would  open  in  ten  minutes,  and  unless 
his  orders  were  countermanded,  the  firm  of  Saxby 
&  Co.  would  be  bankrupt  before  the  day  ended. 

There  was  no  time  to  lose.  Every  minute  was 
priceless.  Before  this  his  brokers  had  started 
for  the  Exchange,  eager  to  execute  his  commis- 
sions. But  there  was  no  Mr.  Crewe,  ready  for 
the  push  and  jostle  of  the  Exchange  floor.  He 
must  therefore  go  himself.  It  was  of  the  utmost 
importance  that  not  even  one  order  be  carried 
out.  So  he  rushed  out  of  the  office,  almost  ran 
to  Wall  Street,  and  got  to  the  Exchange  just 
in  time  to  save  himself  from  utter  ruin.  Already 
there  were  whisperings  of  G.  S.  &  W.  And 
somehow  it  had  become  known  that  he  opposed 
the  scheme.  This  meant  a  fight  between  Mill- 


198      THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

trum  Bros,  and  Saxby  &  Co.  As  to  the  outcome 
of  that  fight,  Wall  Street  had  no  doubts.  And 
many  would  have  been  glad.  Mr.  Saxby  had 
few  friends.  Haughty,  imperious,  often  remorse- 
less, he  had  aroused  deep  hatred  in  many  places. 
But  to  the  surprise  of  almost  every  one,  Mr. 
Saxby,  who  not  once  a  year  appeared  in  Wall 
Street,  was  seen  on  the  Stock  Exchange  floor, 
and  the  reason  was  soon  apparent.  G.  S.  &  W. 
carried  everything  before  it.  There  was  hardly 
even  a  ripple  of  opposition.  Milltrum  Bros, 
easily  acquired  all  the  stock  they  cared  for.  Lack- 
ing the  support  of  the  Saxby  interests,  the  stock 
rapidly  fell  from  its  opening  price,  and  before 
an  hour  had  gone  Mr.  Milltrum  knew  that  the 
dream  of  his  life  had  become  a  reality. 

But  what  a  day  that  was  for  Mr.  Saxby !  The 
bitter,  humiliating  fact  that  he  was  not  penniless 
only  because  of  the  kindness  of  Paul  Bedford 
was  worse  than  poison  in  his  blood. 


M, 


VI. 

VINCENT  PERRIN 


.R.  SAXBY'S  defeat,  though  galling  to  the 
point  of  desperation,  did  not  involve  him  finan- 
cially. Thanks  to  Paul  Bedford's  generous  treat- 
ment of  Mr.  Crewe,  and  his  frankness  in  allowing 
him  to  learn  how  completely  Milltrum  Bros, 
controlled  the  situation,  Mr.  Saxby  was  saved 
from  what  would  have  been  utter  ruin.  But  Mr. 
Bothwell  did  not  escape  so  easily.  Confident 
that  he  had  Milltrum  Bros,  at  a  serious  disad- 
vantage, and  positive  that  through  Judith  he 
had  secured  a  secret  of  priceless  value,  he  bought 
largely  of  such  stocks  as  were  essential  to  the 
new  scheme.  Having  private  ways  of  reaching 
Mr.  Neumarck,  he  prevailed  upon  that  astute 
gentleman  to  take  his  notes  for  large  amounts, 
then  hastened  to  certain  brokers,  who  promptly 
accepted  his  commissions.  So  satisfied  was  he 
as  to  the  turn  of  affairs  that  he  bought  every- 
thing on  narrow  margins,  nor  did  he  trouble 
about  a  reserve  in  case  the  market  might  weaken 

199 


200       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

or  decline.  Impatient  for  the  opening  of  the 
battle,  one  of  such  importance  to  him,  and  on 
which  he  had  staked  so  much,  he  went  to  the 
Stock  Exchange  early,  and,  having  secured  a 
good  place  in  the  gallery,  eagerly  waited  for 
business  to  begin. 

Looking  down,  he  saw  Mr.  Saxby  on  the  floor 
talking  earnestly  with  a  knot  of  brokers  in  one 
corner  of  the  room ;  he  then  rapidly  walked  over 
to  another  corner  where  he  whispered  excitedly  to 
three  or  four  men  who  seemed  surprised  at  what 
he  said.  But  Mr.  Bothwell  only  smiled.  He  was 
confident  that  Mr.  Saxby  had  come  to  carry  out 
in  person  the  plans  arranged  so  carefully  the 
night  before.  How  slowly  the  hands  of  the  big 
clock  moved!  Would  the  time  never  come  for 
opening?  Ah!  now  the  officers  are  taking  their 
places.  In  another  minute  the  hand  will  touch 
the  gong ;  but  what  a  long  time  it  seemed !  Now ! 
But  what  was  this?  Mr.  Saxby  had  gone!  His 
brokers  were  silent  —  only  a  little  sputtering  of 
opposition,  harmless  as  the  throwing  of  corn- 
balls  at  an  alligator,  or  bombarding  Gibraltar 
with  bean-blowers! 

Down  went  the  stocks  in  which  Mr.  Bothwell 
had  invested  his  all,  and  much  more.  With  ears 
strained  to  unnatural  acuteness,  he  heard  call  after 
call,  each  one  lower  than  the  other,  and  in  less 
than  ten  minutes  he  knew  that  his  margins  were 
exhausted,  and  that  his  stocks  must  be  surren- 


VINCENT    PERRIN  201 

dered.  Pale  as  death  he  stood.  He  looked  down 
upon  the  floor  as  one  in  a  dream.  It  seemed 
impossible  that  such  a  thing  could  happen.  Noth- 
ing, seemingly,  was  more  certain.  Mr.  Saxby 
must  have  been  false  to  him.  If  not,  why  this 
utter  failure  of  all  their  plans?  He  would  go 
to  Mr.  Saxby's  office,  and  demand  an  explana- 
tion. He  would  demand  more,  he  would  compel 
the  arch  traitor  to  make  good  what  had  been 
lost  through  his  treachery.  And  if  he  refused, 
then  — 

Hastily  making  his  way  from  the  Stock  Ex- 
change gallery,  he  went  to  Mr.  Saxby's  office, 
where  he  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  of  late. 
The  clerks,  therefore,  felt  no  surprise  as  he  walked 
into  the  inner  office,  without  first  inquiring  if 
Mr.  Saxby  would  see  him. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  "  he  asked, 
excitedly,  looking  at  Mr.  Saxby,  his  eyes  blaz- 
ing with  anger. 

Mr.  Saxby  turned  upon  him  a  face  even  more 
furious  than  his  own.  It  was  at  Mr.  Bothwell's 
suggestion  that  he  had  formed  the  combination  to 
oppose  G.  S.  &  W.  scheme,  having  first  learned 
from  him  what  Milltrum  Bros,  intended.  And 
now  to  have  his  opposition  go  down  like  card- 
board forts  before  a  battery  of  heavy  guns,  every- 
thing swept  away  at  the  first  shot,  was  to  Mr. 
Saxby  simply  maddening. 

The  whole  thing  seemed   ridiculous.     Never 


before  had  he  been  so  treated.  Milltrum  Bros, 
could  well  laugh  at  the  part  he  had  played.  For 
all  this  he  blamed  Mr.  Bothwell,  and  determined, 
at  the  first  opportunity,  to  have  revenge. 

"  You  mean  your  attempt  to  entrap  me  ?  You 
have  come,  I  suppose,  with  a  plausible  explana- 
tion. It  is  not  necessary.  I  do  not  care  to  hear 
it.  My  time  is  too  valuable  to  waste  it  in  that 
fashion.  You  thought  to  trick  me,  but  failed." 
Mr.  Saxby's  voice  had  an  edge  so  keen  that  even 
its  whisper  cut  as  the  point  of  a  lancet. 

"  You  are  a  damned  old  scoundrel,"  Mr.  Both- 
well  said,  hoarsely,  coming  over  to  Mr.  Saxby, 
and  shaking  his  fist  at  him ;  "  how  dare  you  say 
such  things  to  me  after  what  you  have  done  this 
morning?  You  are  a  traitor,  sir.  You  sold  me 
out.  You  went  back  on  your  agreement.  You 
stood  by  and  saw  me  robbed.  But  I  am  not 
going  to  lose  my  money,  not  if  I  have  to  swing 
for  it.  So  pay  up.  Out  of  this  office  I  don't 
go  until  you  make  good  all  I  have  lost." 

"  So  that  is  your  game.  But  I'm  not  sur- 
prised. The  man  who  is  such  an  idiot  as  to 
follow  your  lead  in  anything  may  surely  be 
expected  to  stop  at  nothing.  We  don't,  how- 
ever, pay  blackmail  in  this  office,  Mr.  Bothwell. 
Your  friends,  the  Milltrum  Bros.,  will  surely 
compensate  you  for  the  service  rendered.  You 
have,  doubtless,  an  agreement  with  them." 

The  stinging  contempt  with  which  Mr.  Saxby 


VINCENT    PERRIN  203 

spoke  would  have  infuriated  any  one,  much  less 
a  man  of  the  Bothwell  type.  Without  a  thought, 
therefore,  as  to  consequences,  he  caught  Mr. 
Saxby  by  the  throat,  and  shook  him  with  a 
passion  utterly  reckless.  But  Mr.  Saxby,  though 
twenty  years  older  than  Bothwell,  had  not  lost 
anything  of  his  vigor.  For  the  moment  he  was 
at  a  disadvantage,  but  he  broke  away  from 
Both  well's  grasp,  and  in  turn  caught  him  with 
arms  of  iron. 

"  You  cowardly  hound !  "  he  muttered,  "  you 
sneaking,  spying  whelp!  Your  place  is  in  State's 
prison,  and  I  will  send  you  there." 

When  a  man  is  wrestling  for  his  life,  and  his  an- 
tagonist is  more  powerful  than  himself,  he  should 
not  waste  any  breath  in  threats.  Mr.  Saxby, 
therefore,  weakened  himself  by  just  so  much. 
Better  far  if  he  had  called  to  the  clerks  in  the 
outer  office.  Pride  and  anger,  however,  pre- 
vented his  doing  so. 

If  Mr.  Crewe  had  been  in  his  office  he  would 
have  heard  the  scuffle,  but  no  one  was  now  in 
that  room.  And  in  great  office  buildings  there 
are  so  many  noises  —  opening  and  shutting  of 
doors,  sliding  of  elevator  gates,  ringing  of  bells, 
clicking  of  typewriters,  tickers  from  the  Stock 
Exchange  —  that  it  takes  more  than  ordinary 
commotion  to  arouse  curiosity.  So  they  fought 
like  two  tigers,  every  moment  adding  to  the  anger 
and  bitterness  of  the  struggle.  But  Mr.  Saxby 


204       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

could  not  long  continue  the  unequal  conflict. 
Though  years  bring  experience,  they  do  not  bring 
strength.  And  there  are  times  when  strength 
is  of  more  value  than  anything  else.  It  certainly 
was  so  in  this  instance,  for  Bothwell  gradually 
forced  asunder  the  arms  that  were  pinioning 
him,  then,  drawing  back,  struck  Mr.  Saxby  a 
cruel  blow  in  the  face,  which  caused  him  to  fall 
helpless  on  the  floor.  Glancing  at  him  as  he 
lay  there  with  blood  streaming  from  his  mouth 
and  nose,  Bothwell  saw  that  he  must  make  speedy 
escape,  for  some  of  the  clerks  would  soon  be 
coming  in  with  telegrams  and  messages.  But 
why  go  out  empty-handed?  The  private  safe 
was  open.  It  surely  contained  some  money. 
That  money  Bothwell  must  have,  for  he  was 
now  almost  penniless.  He  sprang  to  the  safe, 
took  out  several  packages  of  bills,  stuffed  them 
into  his  pockets,  then,  jamming  his  hat  down 
on  his  head,  and  turning  up  his  coat-collar  so 
as  to  hide  all  signs  of  the  recent  struggle,  he 
strode  out  of  the  office,  walked  rapidly  down 
the  stairs,  and  was  soon  lost  in  the  crowds 
thronging  the  streets.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was 
at  Burling  Slip,  from  which  place  he  sent  a 
message  to  Yoba  at  the  "  Sembrada."  It  was 
not  a  telegram  that  Yoba  received,  but  a  little 
wooden  box,  containing  three  or  four  strips  of 
cardboard,  but  of  different  colors  and  numbers. 
But  this  Yoba  seemed  to  understand,  for  in  a 


VINCENT    PERRIN  205 

few  minutes  he  returned,  and  gave  to  the  mes- 
senger a  large  hand-bag.  With  all  possible  speed, 
the  messenger  hastened  back  to  Burling  Slip, 
and,  ere  long,  Mr.  Bothwell  came  out,  but  so 
changed  that  the  sharpest  eyes  could  not  have 
detected  him.  He  was  dressed  as  on  the  night 
he  received  a  mysterious  message  at  the  "  Sem- 
brada,"  when  he  had  on  the  rough  clothing  of 
the  master  of  a  coasting  vessel,  and  Yoba  was 
apparelled  in  the  guise  of  a  seaman.  Strolling 
leisurely  along  Front  Street,  he  looked  like  a 
down  East  skipper  on  his  way  to  visit  some 
friends.  Passing  a  mail-box,  he  dropped  in  a 
letter,  then  going  to  the  nearest  "  L "  station, 
went  to  Forty- Second  Street,  where  he  changed 
for  the  Grand  Central  Depot.  It  was  now  almost 
noon,  but  he  had  ample  time  to  get  the  train 
leaving  for  Boston.  Entering  the  smoking-car, 
he  carelessly  tossed  his  large  hand-bag,  on  which 
the  letters  V.  P.  were  marked  plainly,  in  the 
corner  at  his  feet,  and  lighting  a  strong,  cheap- 
looking  cigar,  seemed  to  be  a  veritable  sea-cap- 
tain on  his  way  to  Portland,  or  Bath,  after  a 
rather  tedious  voyage  from  New  Orleans.  On 
arriving  in  Boston,  he  concluded  to  spend  the 
night  at  the  United  States  Hotel,  where  he  regis- 
tered as  Vincent  Perrin,  and  was  given  a  room. 
He  remained  indoors  all  evening,  and  most  of 
the  next  day,  only  going  out  to  secure  a  state- 
room on  the  Portland  boat.  A  nasty,  disagree- 


206       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

able  day  it  was,  and,  having  nothing  special  to 
do,  he  went  on  board  fully  an  hour  before  sail- 
ing time. 

"  A  bad  night,"  he  said  to  the  purser,  as  he 
stood  at  the  little  window  where  tickets  were 
bought  and  stateroom  keys  given  out. 

"  One  of  the  worst  this  season.  But  I  don't 
suppose  you  mind  it  much."  The  purser  made 
this  remark  after  a  glance  at  the  passenger  whose 
name  on  the  lists  sent  from  the  office  was  "  Vin- 
cent Perrin." 

"  Not  specially.  But  the  sail  along  the  east 
coast  at  this  time  of  the  year  is  always  disagree- 
able." 

"  If  I  had  my  way,  I  wouldn't  put  out  to-night," 
the  purser  said. 

"  Is  it  likely  to  be  so  bad  as  that?  " 

"  It  may  let  up  a  little  before  morning,  but  it 
is  snowing  heavily,  and  there  is  more  wind  than 
I  care  for.  Still,  we  must  obey  orders." 

"  Sure,"  was  the  laconic  reply,  and  the  sup- 
posed sea-captain  moved  away. 

Soon  after  orders  came  from  the  main  office 
for  the  steamer  to  proceed  as  usual,  and  in  due 
time  the  clerk  came  for  the  passenger  lists  and 
the  cargo  manifest,  bringing  in  exchange  the 
papers  for  the  Portland  agent.  To  Bothwell's 
annoyance,  he  found,  when  opening  his  bag,  that 
his  fur  cap  had  been  forgotten  at  the  hotel. 
Looking  at  his  watch,  he  saw  that  nearly  half  an 


VINCENT    PERRIN  207 

hour  remained,  and  by  hurrying  he  could  get  his 
cap  before  the  boat  sailed.  He  started  at  once, 
taking  long  strides,  and  walking  rapidly,  but 
when  within  a  few  rods  of  the  hotel  he  slipped 
on  the  icy  sidewalk  and  fell,  striking  his  head 
against  the  curbstone.  Some  passers-by  went  to 
his  assistance,  but  he  was  unconscious,  and  appar- 
ently seriously  hurt.  A  policeman  summoned 
an  ambulance,  and  he  was  taken  to  the  hospital, 
where  he  remained  in  a  stupor  for  several  hours. 
Meantime,  the  Portland  boat  was  on  its  way, 
but  it  never  reached  Portland,  going  down  some- 
time in  the  night,  without  leaving  a  single  trace 
of  its  presence,  or  a  survivor  to  tell  the  terrible 
story  of  disaster. 

Soon  after  Bothwell  left  Mr.  Saxby's  office, 
one  of  the  clerks  went  in,  where,  to  his  amaze- 
ment, he  saw  Mr.  Saxby  lying  on  the  floor  in 
a  pool  of  blood.  Rushing  into  the  passageway, 
he  shouted,  "Help!  Quick!  Murder!"  and  in 
an  instant  all  of  the  other  clerks  hurried  in.  One, 
more  cool  than  the  others,  raised  Mr.  Saxby 
from  the  floor,  and  then,  assisted  by  the  cashier, 
placed  him  on  the  lounge.  Another  telephoned 
to  the  nearest  police-station,  asking  that  a  sur- 
geon be  sent  at  once,  adding  that  murder  had 
been  attempted.  Just  then  Mr.  Crewe  came  in, 
his  anger  having  died  away,  considerably 
ashamed  also  of  his  foolish  haste,  and,  seeing 


208       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

how  matters  were,  he  at  once  assumed  charge 
of  affairs,  giving  his  orders  as  at  other  times. 
Soon  the  police  were  on  hand,  accompanied  by 
a  police  surgeon,  who  speedily  made  an  examina- 
tion, reporting  that  Mr.  Saxby  was  not  danger- 
ously hurt,  but  would  require  care  and  quiet 
for  some  time. 

When  Mr.  Saxby  became  conscious,  and  able 
to  give  a  coherent  account  of  what  had  taken 
place,  it  was  long  past  noon,  so  that  Bothwell 
had  some  hours  in  which  to  make  his  escape. 
He  seemed  pleased  at  seeing  Mr.  Crewe,  but 
was  so  shaken  and  confused  as  to  have  slight 
remembrance  of  their  dispute  of  the  morning. 
When  he  so  far  recovered  that  he  could  recall 
with  tolerable  distinctness  Bothwell's  demands, 
he  asked  Mr.  Crewe  to  see  if  anything  had  been 
taken  from  the  safe.  As  Mr.  Crewe  was  aware 
that  several  packages  of  bills  were  always  held 
in  reserve  by  Mr.  Saxby  to  meet  any  unexpected 
demand  after  bank  hours,  he  went  to  the  com- 
partment where  they  were  kept.  But  they  were 
gone.  Bothwell  had  made  a  clean  sweep,  taking 
away  what  many  men  would  regard  as  a  fortune. 

"  The  miserable  thief,"  Mr.  Saxby  muttered. 
"  But  it  serves  me  right.  However,  he  can't 
be  far  away.  Surely  the  police  won't  let  such  a 
hound  escape." 

Later  in  the  afternoon  he  got  from  Mr.  Crewe 
the  story  of  the  night  before,  and  when  he  heard 


VINCENT    PERRIN  209 

that  Paul  Bedford  gave  him  the  names  of  the 
firms  to  whom  he  had  telegraphed,  in  each  case 
allowing  the  use  of  a  code  which  would  ensure 
immediate  reply,  he  realized  that  Paul  had  tried 
to  save  him  in  every  possible  way.  At  the  doc- 
tor's urgent  request,  he  concluded  to  remain  all 
night  in  his  office,  so  Mr.  Crewe  telephoned  to 
Pelham,  and  before  long  Mrs.  Saxby  appeared, 
bringing  with  her  Doctor  Barrington. 

Miriam's  death  had  wrought  a  great  change 
in  Mrs.  Saxby.  She  was  no  longer  the  proud, 
imperious  woman  of  former  days.  She  was  gen- 
tle, tender,  sympathetic,  and  her  face  was  much 
more  winsome  than  when  Paul  Bedford  first  went 
to  Pelham.  The  room  in  which  Miriam  died 
was  a  sanctuary  to  her.  It  remained  exactly  as 
when  occupied  by  Miriam.  No  guest,  no  matter 
how  favored,  was  given  that  room.  No  servant, 
no  matter  how  careful,  was  permitted  to  put 
foot  in  that  chamber.  With  her  own  hands,  she 
did  whatever  work  that  room  required. 

For  hours  she  would  sit  in  the  chair  where 
Miriam  sat  during  the  weeks  when  she  was  bat- 
tling with  death,  and  her  eyes  would  travel  wist- 
fully to  the  little  cemetery  where  she  so  peacefully 
slept.  Mrs.  Saxby  could  not  forgive  herself. 
Her  memory  of  Miriam's  sufferings  was  terri- 
bly vivid.  Had  there  been  any  way  of  undoing 
the  past  or  making  atonement,  she  would  have 
accepted  it  at  whatever  cost.  Sometimes  she 


210       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

felt  like  a  murderess,  and  that  Miriam's  blood 
stained  her  soul. 

Having  no  outside  interests  to  engage  her 
mind,  caring  nothing  now  for  fashionable  life, 
indifferent  to  many  things  which  formerly  ab- 
sorbed her,  she  was  in  danger  of  becoming  hope- 
lessly despondent,  but,  fortunately,  her  better 
nature  asserted  itself,  and  she  rallied  from  a 
condition  which  caused  Doctor  Barrington  the 
gravest  anxiety.  Then,  as  the  daughter  some- 
times lives  out  the  incompleted  life  of  her  mother, 
she  resolved  to  live  out  the  incompleted  life  of 
her  daughter,  and  each  day  tried  to  do  as  Miriam 
would  have  done  had  she  been  here  in  the  flesh. 
So,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  out  of  Miriam's 
death  came  Mrs.  Saxby's  life.  The  soul  of  the 
daughter  gave  birth  to  the  soul  of  the  mother. 
A  new  being,  therefore,  appeared  in  Pelham,  and 
the  woman  who  had  lost  her  life  while  Miriam 
lived  found  her  life  when  Miriam  died. 

Of  course  she  determined  to  stay  all  night. 
In  vain  Doctor  Barrington  pleaded  with  her  to 
return  to  Pelham,  promising  to  do  everything 
possible  for  Mr.  Saxby,  even  suggesting  that  her 
presence  in  the  office  would  only  be  a  restraint. 
In  vain  Mr.  Saxby  told  her  that,  with  Doctor 
Barrington  and  Mr.  Crewe  to  take  care  of  him, 
there  was  not  the  slightest  necessity  for  her  re- 
maining. But  her  bonnet  was  off,  her  furs  laid 
aside;  the  maid  who  had  accompanied  her  had 


VINCENT    PERRIN 

been  sent  out  with  an  office-boy  to  a  neighboring 
restaurant,  the  telephone  in  the  other  office  had 
been  called  into  service,  and  soon  pillows,  rugs, 
comforters  began  to  make  their  appearance;  and 
then  later,  the  most  appetizing  things  that  a  well- 
furnished  restaurant  could  send.  Soon  the  deft, 
dainty  touch  of  the  woman's  hand  had  trans- 
formed the  hard,  barren  office  into  a  cozy  room, 
and  even  Mr.  Saxby  smiled  gratefully  at  the 
change. 

"  Some  one  at  the  telephone  wishes  to  speak 
with  you,  ma'am,"  the  office  boy  said,  respect- 
fully, as  he  looked  at  Mrs.  Saxby,  who  was  now 
sitting  beside  the  couch  resting,  while  the  maid 
was  arranging  the  table.  She  at  once  went  to  the 
wire. 

It  was  Paul  Bedford,  who  had  just  heard  of 
Bothwell's  murderous  assault.  Having  telephoned 
immediately  to  Pelham,  and  learned  that  Mrs. 
Saxby  had  gone  to  New  York,  he  now  asked 
for  information. 

"  Certainly,  Paul.  Come  at  once.  I  am  going 
to  stay  all  night.  Mr.  Saxby  is  resting  com- 
fortably, and  will  be  very  glad  to  see  you." 

Then  Paul  said  something  to  which  she  lis- 
tened smilingly,  her  face  lighting  up  much  as 
Miriam's  was  wont  to  do  when  specially  pleased. 

"  All  right.  We  will  wait  for  you.  It  is  good 
of  you  to  come  so  promptly." 

Then  she  went  back  to  the  inner  office,  and 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

told  the  maid  to  arrange  for  another  place,  as 
Mr.  Bedford  would  arrive  in  a  few  minutes. 

And  come  he  did,  receiving  a  far  more  cordial 
welcome  than  Mr.  Saxby  had  ever  given  him 
before.  When  he  left,  two  hours  later,  Mrs. 
Saxby  went  with  him  along  the  passageway, 
where  he  lovingly  kissed  her,  the  first  kiss  his 
lips  had  given  since  Miriam's  eyes  had  closed  in 
dreamless  sleep. 


VII. 

THE  PURSUIT  AND  ESCAPE 


O 


F  course  the  assault  on  Mr.  Saxby  was  dis- 
cussed at  the  Milltrum  dinner-table  that  evening, 
for  it  was  in  the  afternoon  paper,  set  forth  with 
all  the  skill  and  sensational  genius  known  to 
metropolitan  journalism.  The  Milltrums  were 
under  no  restraint  in  speaking  of  the  matter, 
for  Miss  Carreau,  soon  after  lunch,  went  to  her 
room,  saying  she  was  not  well,  and  begged  to 
be  excused  from  coming  down  to  dinner.  As 
no  hint  of  the  trouble  had  come  to  the  house 
until  after  she  had  gone  up-stairs,  naturally  she 
was  not  supposed  to  know  anything  of  what  had 
taken  place.  The  Misses  Milltrum,  having  been 
down-town  all  morning,  were  not  aware  that 
just  before  noon  a  special  messenger  brought  a 
bulky  letter  to  Miss  Carreau,  which  she  opened 
in  the  quiet  of  her  own  room.  What  that  letter 
contained,  or  how  far  it  related  to  Mr.  Bothwell, 
Miss  Carreau  did  not  state. 

"  I  always  knew  he  was  an  infernal  rascal. 
How  Judith  ever  tolerated  him  is  more  than  I 
213 


214       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

can  tell.  Good  Lord!  To  think  that  such  a 
scoundrel  should  have  sat  at  this  table  and  min- 
gled with  our  guests!  It  is  enough  to  make  a 
saint  swear." 

Mr.  Milltrum  had  been  sputtering  about  Both- 
well  for  some  time,  and  now,  as  he  sipped  his 
coffee,  he  broke  out  afresh. 

"  I  didn't  know  that  Mr.  Bothwell  had  any 
business  dealings  with  Mr.  Saxby,"  Miss  Mill- 
trum observed,  thoughtfully. 

"  Neither  had  he  until  recently.  In  some  way, 
goodness  only  knows  how,  Bothwell  learned  of 
my  G.  S.  &  W.  scheme,  and  worked  Mr.  Saxby 
in  with  him.  Only  for  Paul  Bedford's  wonder- 
ful management,  the  whole  business  might  have 
been  blocked." 

"  But,  Uncle  Lewis,  I  thought,  from  what 
you  said,  that  no  one  knew  anything  of  your 
plans  outside  of  Paul  and  yourself."  It  was 
Maud  who  spoke,  fixing  her  clear,  sharp  eyes 
on  Mr.  Milltrum. 

"  Until  one  night,  when  I  discussed  the  matter 
with  Paul  in  this  room,  the  subject  was  not  even 
mentioned  to  a  soul  in  New  York,  and  yet  within 
twenty-four  hours,  as  we  learned  afterward, 
Bothwell  was  talking  it  over  with  Mr.  Saxby." 

"  I  wonder  what  night  that  was,"  Miss  Mill- 
trum remarked,  her  face  having  a  perplexed 
look. 

"  No  need  to  wonder,  Peggy.     Paul  came  up 


THE    PURSUIT    AND    ESCAPE     215 

specially,  as  you  and  Maud  were  going  out  some- 
where, to  the  Savoy  I  think,  and  we  came  in  here, 
using  this  table  for  our  maps." 

Just  why  Maud's  eyes  sought  those  of  Miss 
Milltrum,  or  Miss  Milltrum's  eyes  sought  those 
of  Maud,  when  Mr.  Milltrum  recalled  the  even- 
ing referred  to,  is  a  matter  which  must  be  left 
to  explain  itself.  Perhaps  they  remembered  that 
Judith  was  at  home  on  the  evening  in  question, 
and  that,  when  she  returned  from  her  afternoon 
walk  the  following  day,  Mr.  Bothwell  accom- 
panied her  to  the  door. 

Later  in  the  evening  Paul  Bedford  came  up, 
bringing  the  latest  news  from  Mr.  Saxby,  stat- 
ing that,  in  addition  to  Bothwell's  murderous 
assault,  he  had  stolen  a  large  sum  of  money  from 
the  private  safe,  and  that  a  general  police  alarm 
had  been  sent  out. 

Little  time  was  lost  in  sending  out  this  alarm. 
Messages  from  police  headquarters  flashed  to  the 
railroad  stations  in  Brooklyn  and  Jersey  City, 
and  the  detectives  at  the  Grand  Central.  Tele- 
grams also  were  sent  to  every  large  city,  and 
any  passenger  who  resembled  Bothwell  was  care- 
fully shadowed.  A  man  was  stationed  not  far 
from  the  Sembrada,  and  another  near  the  office 
on  Burling  Slip.  A  rigorous  search  of  Mr. 
Bothwell's  apartments  was  made,  and  Yoba  ques- 
tioned in  every  possible  way.  Never  did  an 
officer  have  a  more  unsatisfactory  task  than  the 


216       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

examination  of  Yoba,  whose  smiles,  nods,  and 
head-shakes  only  added  one  mystery  to  another. 

The  officer  swore  several  times,  causing  Yoba 
much  merriment.  Then  he  suggested,  in  very 
definite  language,  that  Yoba  was  a  fool  of  sur- 
passing magnitude.  At  this,  Yoba's  eyes  twin- 
kled with  pleasure. 

"  What  kind  of  a  creature  is  he  ?  "  the  officer 
asked,  helplessly,  turning  to  the  Sembrada  stew- 
ard, who  had  accompanied  him  to  Mr.  Bothwell's 
apartment. 

The    steward   only    shrugged    his    shoulders. 

"  He's  the  queerest  specimen  I  ever  came 
across,"  the  officer  said,  looking  at  Yoba  from 
head  to  foot. 

"  Do  you  understand  English  ?  "  he  shouted, 
impatiently. 

Yoba's  face  had  the  seraphic,  intelligent  expres- 
sion of  an  Alaska  totem. 

"  When  was  Mr.  Bothwell  here  ?  " 

The  totem  smiled. 

"  Is  he  coming  back  to-night  ?  " 

The  totem  smiled  again. 

"  Was  he  here  this  morning?  " 

Another  smile  from  the  totem. 

"  Perhaps  you  can  do  something  with  him, 
Tom,"  the  officer  said,  despairingly,  turning  to 
his  associate. 

But  Tom  did  no  better.  In  fact,  he  did  not 
do  as  well.  For,  under  his  stern  appeals,  Yoba 


THE    PURSUIT    AND    ESCAPE     217 

only  grinned,  the  situation  evidently  being  to  him 
one  of  rare  enjoyment.  But  the  officer  was  de- 
termined to  find  some  way  to  reach  Yoba,  and 
at  length  thought  of  writing  his  questions.  So 
he  got  a  large  tablet  and  pencil  and  wrote  la- 
boriously : 

"  When  did  Mr.  Bothwell  say  he  would  re- 
turn?" 

Then  he  handed  the  tablet  to  Yoba,  expecting 
him  to  write  an  answer,  instead  of  which  the 
dwarf  took  the  tablet  and  pencil  and  placed  them 
on  a  large  card-receiver,  as  he  was  wont  to  do 
with  messages  intended  for  Mr.  Bothwell. 

"  Don't  waste  any  more  time  on  that  idiot ; 
it  only  sets  him  grinning  like  an  ape.  Holy 
Moses,  what  a  face  he  has !  "  the  first  officer 
said,  a  remark  which  must  have  pleased  Yoba 
immensely,  judging  by  the  magnitude  of  his 
smile. 

But  when  the  officers  attempted  to  search  the 
apartment,  they  found  Yoba  even  more  difficult 
to  manage.  They  showed  their  badges  and 
threatened  all  manner  of  things,  causing  Yoba's 
mouth  to  expand  clear  across  his  face;  but  over 
the  threshold  they  were  not  allowed  to  pass, 
until  the  steward  made  a  series  of  signs  more  or 
less  intelligible.  Then  he  let  them  in,  but  Both- 
well  was  not  there. 

At  Burling  Slip  there  was  not  the  same  dif- 
ficulty, the  man  in  charge  of  the  office  opening  at 


218       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

once  to  the  police,  and  readily  answering  their 
questions. 

"  No,  he  had  not  been  there  that  day." 
"  He  was  not  connected  with  the  business." 
"  This  was  a  tug  and  towage  company." 
"  It   was    Mr.    Bothwell's    father   who   estab- 
lished  the   company,    which   accounted    for   the 
name." 

"  Mr.  Bothwell  gets  mail  here  sometimes." 
"  I  said  he  wasn't  here  to-day." 
"  He  hasn't  been  here  for  a  week." 
"  Certainly,  come  right  in.     We  occupy  this 
floor." 

The  detectives  went  in,  but  had  only  their 
trouble  for  their  pains. 

But  there  are  some  men  on  the  New  York 
police  force  who  are  not  easily  baffled,  and  who 
will  follow  up  the  slightest  clue  with  the  instinct 
of  a  bloodhound.  Hence  Mr.  Bothwell  was 
traced  to  Boston,  then  to  the  hotel  where  he  spent 
the  night,  the  fur  cap  left  there  helping  to  com- 
plete the  identification.  It  was  a  simple  matter 
to  follow  him  to  the  Portland  boat,  for  the  name 
under  which  he  registered  at  the  hotel  was  on  the 
passenger  list.  And  as  though  all  the  proofs 
were  not  sufficient,  the  steamboat  company's 
clerk,  who  went  down  to  the  wharf  on  that  ill- 
fated  evening,  distinctly  remembered  such  a  man 
as  the  detectives  described,  standing  near  the 
purser's  office.  That  ended  the  investigation. 


THE    PURSUIT    AND    ESCAPE     219 

No  need  for  further  replies.  Bothwell  was  most 
assuredly  a  passenger  on  the  Portland  boat  that 
night,  when  the  steamer  foundered  with  all  on 
board.  These  facts  were  duly  set  forth  in  the 
New  York  papers,  and  after  a  day  or  two  the 
Bothwell-Saxby  incident  gave  way  to  matters  of 
more  importance. 

Judith  Carreau  followed  the  proceedings  with 
extraordinary  interest,  reading  every  line  in  the 
newspapers  referring  to  the  case.  Closely  veiled 
she  went  one  day  to  police  headquarters,  and 
asked  to  see  the  detectives  who  had  followed  up 
the  clues  to  Boston.  They  were  not  in  just  then, 
but  the  officer  in  charge,  observing  that  his  visitor 
was  of  a  class  not  often  seen  in  such  a  place,  prom- 
ised to  send  one  or  both  of  the  detectives  to  any 
address  she  would  leave  with  him. 

Next  day  a  tall,  soldierly-looking  man,  well 
dressed,  and  of  easy  bearing,  presented  himself 
at  the  house  of  the  Misses  Milltrum,  and  asked 
for  Miss  Carreau.  This  was  the  detective.  At 
Miss  Carreau's  request  he  gave  a  detailed  ac- 
count of  the  proceedings  connected  with  his 
search  for  Bothwell,  beginning  at  Burling  Slip, 
and  ending  on  the  unfortunate  Portland  steamer. 

'  Then  you  think  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  this 
person  being  Mr.  Bothwell  ? "  she  asked  with 
ill-concealed  anxiety. 

"  None  whatever,  madam.  I  followed  him 
step  by  step,  all  the  way,  and  if  that  steamer 


220       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

hadn't  gone  down  he  would  now  be  in  the  city 
jail." 

Judith   shuddered. 

"  We  don't  usually  allow  these  things  to  leave 
headquarters,  but  I  brought  this  along  thinking 
you  might  like  to  see  it,"  and  as  he  spoke  the 
detective  produced  the  fur  cap. 

Again  Judith  shuddered,  this  time  more 
violently  than  before,  for  she  had  seen  Mr.  Both- 
well  wear  such  a  cap  when  he  went  out  driving. 
She  took  it  in  her  trembling  hands,  but  in  a 
moment  gave  it"  back  to  the  detective. 

"  I  am  indeed  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  she 
said,  speaking  in  a  low,  sad  tone.  "  I  knew  Mr. 
Bothwell  intimately.  He  often  came  to  my 
father's  house  when  we  lived  in  the  South.  This 
will  explain  why  I  wanted  to  hear  what  you  could 
tell  me.  Kindly  accept  this  for  your  trouble," 
handing  the  officer  an  envelope.  Then  she 
added,  "  If  at  any  time  I  should  require  your 
services,  perhaps  you  will  favor  me  with  your 
card." 

"  Visiting-cards  are  not  much  in  my  line, 
madam,  but  this  may  answer,"  as  he  wrote  his 
name  and  address  on  a  slip  of  paper,  and  handed 
it  to  Judith. 

When  he  had  gone  Miss  Carreau  went  to  her 
room,  and  locking  the  door,  opened  her  desk, 
from  which  she  took  out  the  letter  Bothwell  had 
sent  her  the  day  he  was  leaving  New  York. 


THE    PURSUIT    AND    ESCAPE     221 

Within  the  large  outer  envelope  was  another  on 
which  was  written  in  pencil,  "  Not  to  be  opened 
until  you  hear  from  me."  In  the  corner  the 
initials  "  G.  B."  were  quite  visible,  though  not  so 
plain  as  the  other  writing. 

"  Poor  Gerald !  "  she  murmured,  softly.  "  Oh, 
why  was  he  so  foolish!  And  to  think  that  this 
is  the  end !  "  She  was  pale  as  death.  Not  a 
sign  of  blood  was  in  her  face,  and  only  for  her 
eyes  she  would  have  seemed  as  a  woman  of 
Grecian  marble.  But  her  eyes  burned  with  un- 
natural fire.  Rage,  hate,  fury,  flashed  from  them 
as  sparks  from  an  anvil.  "  They  have  murdered 
him,"  she  whispered,  with  an  intensity  that  sent 
the  words  from  her  lips  like  quivering  arrows 
from  a  steel  bow. 

Then  she  opened  the  envelope  and  found  in  it 
a  package  of  large  bills,  a  number  of  gold  cer- 
tificates, and  a  small  key  of  curious  pattern. 
Hidden  cunningly  within  the  bills  was  a  scrap  of 
paper.  Eagerly  she  read: 

"  I  am  compelled  to  fly.  But  I  hope  to  see  you 
soon.  Keep  the  enclosed  for  me.  Yoba  under- 
stands about  the  key.  Show  it  to  him,  that  is 
all." 

She  kept  within  her  room  all  that  afternoon, 
only  coming  down  when  dinner  was  announced, 
but  this  excited  no  remark,  as  since  Mr.  Both- 
well's  disappearance  her  moods  had  been 
strangely  variable. 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

When  Bothwell  opened  his  eyes  and  looked 
about  him  he  wondered  greatly.  He  was  in  a 
small  room,  lying  on  a  narrow  bed,  the  room 
scantily  furnished,  the  bed  unlike  any  on  which 
he  had  ever  slept.  Having  a  peculiar  sensation 
in  his  head,  he  put  up  his  hand  to  feel  what  was 
the  matter,  when  he  touched  something  that 
seemed  to  be  a  thick  bandage.  This  startled 
him,  but  not  so  much  as  hearing  a  pleasant  voice 
say: 

"  Well,  sir,  you  have  had  a  long  sleep.  I  hope 
you  feel  rested,""  and  turning  to  the  bedside  he 
saw  a  comely,  healthy-looking  young  woman  in 
the  garb  of  a  hospital  nurse. 

But  he  could  not  get  the  relation  of  events. 
Why  was  he  here  ?  Why  was  his  head  bandaged  ? 
This  surely  was  not  the  Portland  steamer. 

Seeing  the  mystified  look  on  his  face,  the  nurse 
came  over  to  the  bed,  and  laying  her  hand  on  his 
forehead  said : 

"  No  fever  to  speak  of.  Nothing  serious  then, 
you  will  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two." 

"  But  what  has  happened  ?  I  don't  remember 
a  thing  since  —  "  Then  it  all  came  to  him,  his 
rushing  from  the  steamer  to  the  hotel,  his  slipping 
on  the  icy  sidewalk,  his  terrible  fall,  and  the 
blankness  from  which  he  was  now  awaking.  In 
another  moment  the  horrors  of  the  day  before 
broke  upon  him,  and  quicker  far  than  lightning 
scene  after  scene  flashed  across  his  memory. 


THE    PURSUIT    AND    ESCAPE     223 

Then  it  occurred  to  Bothwell  that  perhaps  he 
had  not  escaped,  after  all,  and  this  room  was  the 
hospital  ward  of  some  prison. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  he  asked,  anxiously. 

"  In  the  City  Hospital,"  the  nurse  answered, 
pleasantly. 

Then  she  told  him  the  accident  wards  were 
so  crowded  that  he  had  been  put  in  a  private 
room,  and  as  the  case  was  not  serious,  he  would 
be  out  in  a  day  or  two. 

Soon  the  doctor  made  his  morning  round,  and 
smilingly  said  the  patient  needed  his  breakfast 
more  than  anything  else.  After  breakfast  Both- 
well  got  up,  and,  though  weak,  sat  in  an  easy 
chair,  and  being  anxious  to  get  some  news  asked 
if  he  might  have  the  morning  papers.  There  was 
no  reference  to  his  attack  on  Mr.  Saxby,  the  Bos- 
ton papers  having  other  matters  to  exploit.  When 
the  afternoon  papers  were  brought  in  he  saw  that 
grave  fears  were  expressed  for  the  Portland 
steamer.  The  steamer  had  not  arrived  in  Port- 
land, nor  had  she  been  seen  anywhere  along  the 
coast.  The  steamboat  company  was  sending 
out  tugs,  hoping  to  discover  the  missing  steamer, 
which  had  probably  met  with  some  accident,  and 
was  now  in  need  of  assistance.  He  explained 
to  the  nurse  his  anxiety  by  saying  that  he  had 
friends  on  the  Portland  boat,  and  begged  of  her 
to  let  him  have  the  latest  editions  of  the  papers. 
Next  morning  his  first  inquiry  was  about  the 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

steamer,  and  if  anything  had  been  heard  of  her? 
But  the  papers  had  nothing  to  report,  only  to 
hope  that  the  boat  would  weather  the  storm,  and 
run  in  somewhere  along  the  coast. 

The  passenger  list  was  printed  in  full,  and 
Both  well  saw  there  the  name  of  "  Vincent 
Perrin."  Towards  evening,  as  he  felt  now  com- 
paratively well,  he  left  the  hospital,  receiving 
intact  the  substantial  wallet  which  was  in  an 
inside  pocket  when  he  fell.  Going  to  the 
Touraine,  a  hotel  overlooking  the  Common,  he 
engaged  a  room,  registering  as  "  Henry  Sim- 
lick."  Next  day  he  again  eagerly  searched  the 
papers  first  for  New  York  items,  and  then  for 
news  of  the  Portland  steamer.  But  there  was 
nothing  of  interest  from  New  York,  everything 
centering  on  the  ill-fated  boat,  which  was  now 
given  up  as  lost. 

Calling  a  cab  he  drove  to  a  clothing  house  on 
Washington  Street,  where  he  made  various  pur- 
chases, ordering  everything  to  be  sent  to  the 
Touraine;  then  he  went  to  a  house  which  dealt 
in  trunks  and  leather  goods,  and  later  to  the 
Boston  and  Albany  depot,  where  he  secured  a 
sleeper  on  the  train  going  at  midnight.  A  new 
scheme  was  now  in  Bothwell's  mind.  As  the 
Portland  boat  was  lost,  he  was  supposed  to  be 
drowned.  Granting  that  the  detectives  might 
get  on  his  trail,  they  could  only  follow  him  to  the 
steamer  wharf.  No  one  had  seen  him  leave  the 


THE    PURSUIT    AND    ESCAPE     225 

boat.  His  name  was  on  the  passenger  list. 
The  cap  which  he  feared  might  lead  to  his 
detection  would  now  only  more  fully  identify 
him  as  having  sailed  for  Portland.  He  had  ample 
supplies  of  money  to  take  him  where  he  pleased. 
Gerald  Bothwell  was  dead.  Dead  in  the  person 
of  Vincent  Perrin,  who  had  gone  down  with 
scores  of  others  on  the  night  the  Portland  steamer 
sailed  from  Boston. 


VIII. 

A  VISIT  TO  THE  SEMBRADA 

OOON  after  her  interview  with  the  detectives, 
Judith  went  to  the  Sembrada,  taking  the  key 
Bothwell  had  directed  her  to  show  to  Yoba.  For 
reasons  best  known  to  herself,  Judith  was  most 
anxious  to  secure  the  box  or  cabinet  to  which  this 
key  was  related.  With  it  in  her  possession,  cer- 
tain matters  would  easily  adjust  themselves. 

The  Milltrum  carriage  was  always  at  Judith's 
disposal,  but  this  morning  she  preferred  to  walk, 
for  the  air  was  crisp,  stimulating,  with  just 
enough  sting  in  it  to  make  rapid  walking  a 
pleasure.  And  then  a  woman  like  Judith  Car- 
reau  —  superb  in  figure,  of  glorious  beauty,  with 
every  movement  suggesting  fulness  of  life,  and 
arrayed  in  garments  singularly  appropriate  and 
becoming  —  has  no  right  to  allow  herself  to  be 
boxed  up  in  a  carriage  where  people  cannot  see 
and  admire  her.  A  beautiful  woman  owes  some- 
thing to  those  who  are  not  so  favored.  Miss 
Carreau  recognized  this  obligation,  for  she  seldom 
used  the  carriage  unless  it  were  an  open  one,  and 

226 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    SEMBRADA       227 

then  only  when  the  drive  was  a  sort  of  semi-pro- 
cession with  spectators  in  abundance.  But  we  are 
not  to  infer  that  Judith  was  vain,  for  vanity  is 
a  poor,  silly  thing,  no  more  to  be  compared  with 
pride  than  flat  cider  with  sparkling  champagne. 

On  reaching  the  Sembrada  she  was  bitterly 
disappointed  to  learn  that  Yoba  had  gone,  with- 
out leaving  a  trace  by  which  he  might  be  dis- 
covered. The  clerk,  a  courteous,  intelligent 
young  man,  also  informed  her  that  Mr.  Bothwell's 
apartment  was  now  occupied  by  a  Mr.  Neumarck, 
an  old  gentleman,  who  rarely  left  his  room.  See- 
ing a  look  of  surprise  on  Miss  Carreau's  face,  the 
clerk  added  that,  when  Mr.  Neumarck  came  to 
the  Sembrada,  he  not  only  produced  the  lease 
under  which  Mr.  Bothwell  held  the  apartment, 
transferring  to  him  the  unexpired  term,  but  also 
a  deed  or  bill  of  sale  covering  the  furniture. 

This  caused  Judith  to  wonder  if  the  article  to 
which  Bothwell  referred  when  sending  her  the 
key  was  included  in  the  effects  of  which  Mr. 
Neumarck  had  taken  possession.  She  suggested 
to  the  clerk  the  possibility  of  an  interview  with 
Mr.  Neumarck.  He  smiled  pleasantly,  but  shook 
his  head.  Then  she  became  very  charming  in 
her  insistence,  assuring  the  clerk  that  Mr.  Neu- 
marck would  undoubtedly  make  an  exception 
in  her  favor.  What  could  the  poor  fellow  do 
under  the  influence  of  those  pleading  eyes,  and 
with  that  beautiful  face  looking  eagerly  into  his  ? 


228       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

So  he  yielded,  as  the  man  has  ever  done  since  Eve 
offered  the  apple  to  her  obedient  spouse. 

On  going  to  Mr.  Neumarck's  apartment,  Miss 
Carreau  pencilled  a  word  or  two  on  her  visiting- 
card,  and  much  to  the  clerk's  surprise,  for  he  had 
accompanied  her  up-stairs,  the  servant  brought 
back  word  that  Mr.  Neumarck  would  see  her. 

An  old,  wizened,  singular-looking  man,  but 
with  eyes  bright  and  keen  as  those  of  a  ferret, 
was  sitting  propped  up  in  a  wheeled  chair  and 
holding  her  card  in  his  hand,  when  she  followed 
the  servant  into  the  room. 

"  What  is  your  business,  madam  ?  Have  you 
come  to  tell  me  anything  of  Mr.  Bothwell?  Are 
you  aware  that  I  am  an  invalid  and  do  not  receive 
visitors  ?  "  were  the  questions  that  greeted  Judith 
before  she  had  even  seated  herself,  and  asked  with 
an  eagerness  which  was  very  manifest. 

"  I  come  rather  to  ask  a  favor,"  Judith  said, 
gently,  "  one  which  I  hope  you  will  grant,  as  it  is 
of  much  importance  to  me." 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  tell  me  some- 
thing about  Mr.  Bothwell.  You  wrote  his  name 
on  your  card.  Otherwise  the  servant  would  not 
have  let  you  in.  Why  did  you  give  his  name  with 
yours  ?  " 

Never  did  Judith  meet  a  pair  of  eyes  that 
searched  her  so  unsparingly  as  those  of  Mr. 
Neumarck.  She  could  feel  them,  as  points  of 
flame,  burn  their  way  to  the  depths  of  her 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    SEMBRADA      229 

heart.  Realizing,  therefore,  that  subterfuge  or 
evasion  would  be  useless,  she  replied : 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Bothwell  the  day  he 
left  New  York.  In  that  letter  he  enclosed  this 
key,  and  I  have  come  to  find  the  box  or  cabinet 
which  was  placed  in  Yoba's  care  subject  to  my 
order." 

For  a  few  moments  Mr.  Neumarck  looked  at 
Judith,  perhaps  more  intently  than  before,  then 
he  said,  significantly : 

"  You  must  have  been  very  intimate  with  Mr. 
Bothwell  when  he  found  leisure  to  write  you  at 
that  time." 

"  I  was  intimate  with  Mr.  Bothwell,  very 
intimate.  In  fact  we  were  —  " 

Judith  stopped  abruptly,  though  the  ring  of 
defiance  in  her  voice  continued  to  the  last  word. 

"  You  think  he  is  dead  ?  "  Mr.  Neumarck 
asked  the  question  in  a  cold,  merciless  tone. 

"  How  can  I  think  otherwise  ?  I  have  seen  the 
detective  who  traced  him  to  Boston.  There  is  no 
question  in  my  mind." 

If  Judith's  eyes  had  been  as  sharp  as  they  were 
brilliant,  or  if  she  could  have  seen  as  deeply  into 
Mr.  Neumarck's  face  as  he  was  seeing  into  hers, 
she  might  have  noticed  a  peculiar  expression  flit 
across  his  features. 

"  Nothing  more  can  be  done,  I  suppose  ? " 
Mr.  Neumarck's  tone  was  that  of  utter  indiffer- 
ence. 


230       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  What  more  can  be  done  ? "  Judith  asked, 
almost  fiercely.  He  was  on  that  Portland 
steamer  when  it  was  lost  with  all  on  board." 

"  Have  you  any  interest  in  Mr.  Both  well  other 
than  to  secure  the  article  for  which  you  have 
brought  the  key?  " 

How  searching  Mr.  Neumarck's  eyes  were 
as  he  asked  this  question ! 

Judith's  face  flushed  angrily.  What  right  had 
Mr.  Neumarck  to  probe  into  matters  which  did 
not  concern  him?  Why  should  he  be  so  curious 
regarding  her  relations  with  Mr.  Bothwell?  A 
hot  reply,  therefore,  leaped  to  her  lips,  for  her 
Southern  blood  was  aroused.  But  she  remem- 
bered that  Mr.  Neumarck  had  possibly  in  his 
possession  that  for  which  she  had  come,  and  a 
foolish  anger  now  would  only  result  in  her  de- 
feat. So  she  answered,  but  speaking  in  a  low 
tone,  and  with  considerable  restraint: 

"  My  interest  in  Mr.  Bothwell  relates  ex- 
clusively to  the  errand  which  brought  me  here 
this  morning." 

Again  that  singular  expression  flitted  across 
Mr.  Neumarck's  face,  but  so  quickly  that  Judith 
did  not  see  it. 

Then  he  touched  a  gong  at  his  hand. 

"  Bring  me  that  Cloissonne  jewel-casket  from 
the  safe  in  my  room,"  he  said  to  the  servant.  In 
a  few  minutes  the  servant  returned  with  a  beauti- 
ful specimen  of  Cloissonne  work,  as  large  as  an 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    SEMBRADA      231 

ordinary  cash-box,  the  lid  fastened  so  cunningly 
that  there  seemed  no  place  to  insert  the  key  Judith 
held  in  her  fingers. 

"  It  opens  here,"  Mr.  Neumarck  said,  sliding 
an  outer  covering  from  the  face  of  the  lock,  "  now 
please  take  it  away." 

He  listened  unmoved  to  her  profuse  thanks, 
studiously  avoided  the  hand  she  extended  in 
gratitude,  nor  did  he  make  any  reply  to  her  part- 
ing words,  save  a  nod  of  curt  dismissal.  But 
when  she  had  gone  he  smiled  mysteriously. 

Walking  rapidly  across  the  park,  holding 
firmly  the  precious  box,  Judith  soon  reached 
home,  where  she  went  at  once  to  her  room. 
Then  with  strange  eagerness  she  opened  the  box, 
hardly  giving  a  thought  to  some  valuable  jewels 
that  were  on  the  upper  tray,  intent  only  on  finding 
some  papers  that  were  hidden  in  a  compartment 
by  itself.  When  she  found  these  papers  her  face 
lit  up  with  joy,  and  a  little  cry  of  gladness  escaped 
her  lips.  Hardly  daring  to  open  them  lest  some 
prying  eyes  might  see,  she  struck  a  match  and 
held  the  papers  to  the  flame,  waiting  till  they  were 
consumed  to  a  crisp.  And  even  of  this  she  was 
careful,  for  she  opened  the  window  and  so  scat- 
tered the  ashes  that  not  a  vestige  remained. 
Then  going  back  to  the  box,  she  took  out  the 
jewels  one  after  the  other,  examining  them  care- 
fully, trying  some  of  the  rings  on  her  fingers,  and 
enjoying  the  flash  and  sparkle  of  the  stones. 


232       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

When  Judith  came  down  to  dinner  that  even- 
ing, instead  of  being  anxious  and  preoccupied, 
she  entered  heartily  into  the  conversation  at  the 
table,  and  told  some  bright  Southern  stories,  ren- 
dering the  negro  dialect  with  such  fidelity  that  Mr. 
Milltrum  fairly  shook  with  laughter.  Miss  Mill- 
trum,  no  unworthy  mimic  herself,  indeed  a  born 
actress,  recognized  in  Judith  a  quality  hitherto 
unnoticed,  and  mentally  projected  for  the  coming 
season  certain  entertainments,  when  this  new 
talent  would  be  of  material  service.  Maud  was 
simply  amazed -at  the  transformation  in  Judith. 
She  had  considered  her  dull,  without  skill  in 
conversation,  by  no  means  adapted  to  the  light, 
graceful  ways  so  essential  to  social  success. 
While  she  admitted  to  Miss  Milltrum  that  Judith 
was  singularly  beautiful,  and  could  wear  a  gown 
with  rare  distinction,  beyond  this  Peggy  could 
not  persuade  her  to  go.  And  now  this  same 
Judith,  whom  she  had  almost  despised,  was  play- 
ing mental  archery  with  Mr.  Milltrum,  sending 
well-aimed  arrows  from  her  dainty  lips,  some  of 
them  feathered  with  exquisite  skill,  and  others 
so  sharply  tipped  as  to  strike  deeply  into  the 
target.  Even  Paul  Bedford,  though  by  no  means 
of  slow  wit  or  dragging  speech,  was  not  proof 
against  her  pleasantries,  and  more  than  once  had 
to  join  in  the  laugh  against  himself.  Judith  was 
surely  in  a  most  fascinating  mood.  Nor  was  it 
that  mesmeric,  dominating  influence  which  exer- 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    SEMBRADA      233 

cises  a  form  of  spell,  but  rather  a  pervading  pres- 
ence, quickening  and  stimulating  all  who  are 
within  its  reach. 

"  I  wish  Judith  could  come  with  us  to-night," 
Mr.  Milltrum  said,  impulsively.  "  It  must  be 
terribly  dull  and  lonesome  here  without  a  soul 
in  the  house  except  the  servants." 

"Yes,  why  not?"  Paul  responded,  looking 
admiringly  at  Judith,  who  sat  immediately  oppo- 
site. 

"  Perhaps  Judith  would  not  care  to  come," 
Miss  Milltrum  suggested  doubtingly,  for  she  re- 
membered that  mourning  robes  were  not  consid- 
ered good  form  in  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House, 
the  place  to  which  they  were  going  later  in  the 
evening. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  she  asked,  smilingly. 

"  To  see  '  Faust,'  "  Maud  answered. 

"  '  Faust ! '  Oh,  I  wish  -  "  then  she  stopped 
abruptly. 

For  a  few  minutes  no  one  spoke.  Judith  may 
not  have  intended  anything  by  her  dramatic  and 
effective  pause,  nevertheless  it  secured  positive 
results,  for  soon  after,  when  the  Misses  Milltrum 
went  up-stairs  to  dress  for  the  opera,  Judith  went 
with  them,  and  when  they  returned  ready  for  the 
carriage  waiting  at  the  door,  she  accompanied 
them,  nor  did  either  Mr.  Milltrum  or  Paul 
Bedford  manifest  any  surprise  when  they  saw 
her  form  one  of  the  company.  Verily  the 


234       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

feminine  mind  has  various  ways  of  securing  its 
own  desires. 

A  brilliant  scene  that  surely  was,  on  which 
Judith  turned  her  wondering  eyes,  as,  sitting  in 
Mr.  Milltrum's  box,  she  looked  around  the 
crowded  opera-house.  All  New  York  was  there 
—  at  least  all  that  New  York  is  supposed  to 
represent.  The  magnificent  opera-house,  with  its 
superb  decorations,  was  a  revelation  in  itself,  but 
the  brilliant  costumes,  flashing  diamonds,  women 
resplendent  in  glorious  beauty,  everywhere  signs 
of  boundless  wealth,  filled  Judith  with  amaze- 
ment. 

The  possibility  of  entering  such  a  world  as  this, 
of  sharing  in  its  pleasures,  living  its  joyous  and 
ambitious  life,  being  openly  received  as  a  member 
of  its  favored  circle,  able  to  take  her  place  among 
these  envied  daughters  of  Gotham,  and  in  time, 
perhaps,  be  recognized  as  a  leader  in  the  fashion- 
able host,  so  aroused  Judith  that  for  the  moment 
she  forgot  everything,  save  the  one  purpose 
which  now  dominated  her  heart.  A  little  smile 
hovered  around  her  lips  as  she  realized  that 
opera-glasses  were  levelled  at  her  from  all  parts 
of  the  house,  and  she  instinctively  felt  the  ques- 
tioning now  going  on  in  many  of  the  boxes. 

Under  the  excitement  her  eyes  glowed  as  with 
fire,  a  faint  but  exquisite  flush  crept  into  her 
cheeks,  her  face  became  radiant  with  newly 
awakened  hopes  and  ambitions,  so  that  her  beauty 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    SEMBRADA      235 

was  positively  startling.  As  a  usual  thing  the 
Milltrum  box  excited  little  attention.  It  was 
taken  for  granted  that  the  Misses  Milltrum 
would  wear  handsome  gowns,  appropriate  jewels, 
and  properly  represent  the  set  to  which  they 
belonged. 

But  on  this  night  the  Milltrum  box  awakened 
general  interest,  and  scores  of  questions  were 
asked,  most  of  them  failing  to  secure  definite 
reply. 

In  due  time  the  curtain  rose  upon  the  grave 
year-worn  Faust,  whose  life  has  been  one  of 
serious  toil,  almost  unrelieved  by  such  pleasures 
as  usually  come  to  men.  A  strange  theme  for 
the  poet  and  dramatist  —  the  struggle  of  a  man 
with  himself,  the  fierce  contention  of  the  two 
natures,  in  which  the  one  battles  with  the  other 
for  the  mastery.  Judith  seemed  oblivious  of  her 
surroundings,  leaning  forward  to  catch  every  note 
of  that  wondrous  music,  as  it  rippled  from 
Marguerite's  throat,  or  fell  from  the  lips  of 
Faust,  or  leaped  daringly  from  the  mocking 
mouth  of  the  Tempter.  Again  and  again  Paul 
Bedford  looked  at  her,  wondering  why  the 
opera  affected  her  so  strangely,  for  there  were 
times  when  she  shivered  as  though  frightened 
by  some  mysterious  foe,  while  in  another  moment 
he  was  certain  that  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 
Being  keenly  susceptible  to  music  himself,  this 
responsiveness  on  the  part  of  Judith  quickened 


236       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

his  sympathies  to  a  degree  he  had  never  before 
felt  for  her. 

Assuredly  Judith  scored  heavily  that  evening. 
Her  vivacity  during  dinner,  her  exquisite  tact  in 
accepting  the  rather  tardy  and  possible  forced 
invitation  of  the  Misses  Milltrum  to  go  with  them 
to  the  opera,  and  her  delicate  appreciation  of  the 
music,  combined  to  make  the  evening  an  unquali- 
fied success.  No  wonder,  therefore,  when  she 
retired  that  night,  there  was  a  look  of  triumph 
on  her  face.  And  well  there  might  be;  for  not 
only  the  evening,  but  the  morning  as  well,  had 
brought  her  within  reaching  distance  of  dreams 
long  hidden  in  her  soul. 


w 


IX. 

A  TRIP  TO  NEVADA 


HEN  pity  and  gratitude  lay  siege  to  a 
man's  heart,  surrender  is  merely  a  question  of 
time. 

Ever  since  that  night  when  Judith  Carreau 
went  with  the  Milltrums  to  the  opera,  a  feeling 
of  pity  for  the  homeless,  motherless  stranger  had 
taken  possession  of  Paul  Bedford.  Neither  did 
he  fail  to  recall  the  peculiar  circumstances  under 
which  Judith  had  come  to  the  Milltrums,  for 
Mr.  Milltrum  had  shared  with  him  the  romance 
of  his  early  life.  Then,  too,  the  fact  that  Judith 
was  his  own  kinswoman,  however  distant,  added 
to  the  burden  of  obligation,  for  blood  is  thicker 
than  water,  especially  Southern  blood.  Probably 
if  she  had  been  less  beautiful  and  attractive  in 
person,  Judith  would  not  have  appealed  so  stren- 
uously to  the  chivalry  and  tenderness  of  Paul's 
heart,  but  that  is  a  matter  with  which  we  have 
no  concern.  On  general  principles,  however,  it 
may  be  assumed  that  pity,  when  the  object  of  it 
is  a  young  and  singularly  beautiful  woman,  has 

237 


238       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

a  way  of  enlarging  itself  into  generous  propor- 
tions. 

Closely  allied  to  this  feeling"  of  pity  for  Judith 
was  his  sense  of  gratitude  to  Mr.  Milltrum.  For 
Mr.  Milltrum,  Paul  entertained  a  profound  affec- 
tion. He  had  been  to  him  as  a  father,  a  guardian, 
a  friend;  he  had  rescued  him  from  poverty,  ex- 
tended a  cordial  and  generous  hand,  opened  to 
him  doorways  that  led  to  business  success,  and 
placed  him  under  obligations  which  he  never 
could  repay.  He  also  knew  how  Mr.  Milltrum 
regarded  Judith.  The  dear  man  made  no  secret 
of  his  affection  for  her,  and,  though  at  no  time 
had  he  suggested  such  a  thing,  Paul  could  not 
but  feel  what  he  desired  in  his  breast. 

And  so,  between  pity  and  gratitude,  Paul  found 
himself  gradually  yielding,  and,  while  he  well 
knew  that  Judith  would  never  be  to  him  what  Mi- 
riam had  been,  might  they  not  be  measurably 
happy?  Miriam's  place  in  his  heart  was  sacred, 
and  would  ever  remain  so.  That  was  settled.  For 
him  there  had  been  one  real  marriage,  and  there 
never  could  be  another.  But  why  doom  himself  to 
a  lonely,  homeless  life,  amassing  wealth  for  which 
he  had  no  special  use,  when  Judith  might  share 
his  fortune  and  make  possible  an  existence  less 
hopeless  and  barren? 

Reasoning  thus,  —  a  sure  proof  that  he  was 
not  in  love,  for  love  never  reasons,  —  he  became 
more  cousinly  in  his  attentions  to  Judith,  finally 


A   TRIP   TO    NEVADA  239 

drifting  into  the  position  of  an  acknowledged 
suitor.  It  must  be  admitted  that  he  was  not  an 
enthusiastic  lover,  and  some  women  would  have 
given  him  marching  orders  at  short  notice,  but 
Judith  seemed  content  to  let  matters  take  their 
course. 

In  this  way  the  months  went  by,  until  one  day 
there  was  a  quiet  wedding,  so  quiet,  indeed,  that 
few  knew  anything  of  it,  save  the  little  circle 
specially  interested. 

Having  made  large  purchases  in  Nevada  prop- 
erties, Paul  suggested  that,  instead  of  the  ortho- 
dox wedding-jaunt,  a  private  car  be  secured,  and 
the  Milltrums  go  with  Judith  and  himself  on  a 
prospecting  tour  among  the  Nevada  mines.  This 
was  readily  agreed  to,  Mr.  Milltrum  entering 
into  the  plans  with  the  greatest  possible  zest. 
There  was  a  novelty  about  the  arrangement  which 
they  all  enjoyed,  and,  as  the  car  was  shunted  off 
wherever  the  travellers  pleased,  remaining  almost 
a  week  at  Buffalo,  giving  time  for  Niagara  and 
a  little  independent  tour  in  Canada ;  then  for  an- 
other week  at  Chicago,  where  the  Milltrum  Bros., 
through  their  employees,  gave  the  party  a  joyous 
reception ;  then  again  at  other  points  on  the  way, 
more  than  a  month  elapsed  before  the  company 
reached  their  destination. 

It  so  happened  that  the  special  properties  in 
which  Paul  Bedford  was  interested  were  situated 
in  Storey  County;  the  car,  therefore,  was  run 


240       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

to  Virginia,  which  enjoyed  the  distinction  of 
being  the  chief  town  of  the  county.  Private  cars 
were  not  an  every-day  occurrence  in  Virginia. 
Indeed,  an  ordinary  train,  such  as  one  would 
find  almost  anywhere,  meant  an  event  of  much 
importance  to  this  county  capital.  Anything  more 
impressive  than  a  freight  train,  with  a  caboose 
into  which  a  stray  passenger  might  be  stowed, 
usually  excited  general  interest.  So  work  was 
practically  suspended  for  the  time  being,  and  all 
who  could  went  down  to  the  little  station  to  see 
the  train,  of  whose  coming  the  station-master  had 
received  word  several  hours  before.  As  it  came 
in  sight,  there  was  a  buzz  of  excitement,  for  few 
men  in  that  company  had  ever  seen  such  a  train, 
a  powerful  locomotive,  one  of  the  best  the 
road  had  at  its  disposal,  and  one  solitary  car, 
but  longer  and  heavier  than  Virginia,  had  yet 
known. 

Virginia,  at  this  time,  was  not  densely  popu- 
lated, hardly  numbering  as  many  residents  as  a 
New  York  down-town  block.  Quite  a  little  crowd 
gathered  around  the  car  when  it  finally  came  to 
a  stop  in  the  station.  There  were  a  number  of 
women  with  children  in  their  arms,  and  still  more 
with  youngsters  tugging  at  their  skirts,  some 
of  them  much  frightened  at  the  puffing  and  snort- 
ing of  the  big  engine.  There  were  fully  a  score 
of  boys,  barefooted  and  bareheaded,  and  their 
general  apparel  was  less  evident  than  custom  is 


A    TRIP    TO    NEVADA 

wont  to  favor.  Then  there  were  girls,  and  young 
women,  by  no  means  unbecomingly  attired ;  some 
of  them  fine  specimens  of  healthy,  vigorous  life, 
and  with  that  graceful  movement  which  comes 
from  untrammelled,  unaffected  youth.  Of  course, 
there  were  young  men,  and  men  not  so  young; 
men  from  the  mines,  and  men  from  the  country 
round  about,  for  Virginia  was  something  of  a 
trading-centre,  and  furnished  supplies  to  other 
sections  of  the  county. 

As  the  day  was  warm  and  it  lacked  some  hours 
to  sundown,  the  car  windows  were  raised,  thus 
affording  the  travellers  an  opportunity  of  enjoy- 
ing the  unwonted  scene.  But  Mr.  Milltrum  was 
not  content  with  looking  out  of  the  window.  He 
had  too  much  of  the  Western  restlessness  in  his 
blood  to  sit  quietly  in  his  chair.  So,  at  the  first 
available  moment,  he  went  to  the  rear  platform 
of  the  car,  and,  taking  off  his  hat,  said : 

"  Good  afternoon,  my  friends.  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  you.  I  hope  you  are  well.  This  is  a  fine 
country  of  yours.  Lots  of  it,  too.  My  name  is 
Milltrum.  I  am  going  to  stay  a  few  days  so  as 
to  get  a  breath  of  this  good  air  and  grow  young 
and  handsome  again." 

The  pleasant  face  of  Mr.  Milltrum,  as  he  spoke, 
and  his  hearty,  buoyant  manner,  instantly  caught 
the  sympathy  of  the  Virginians,  and  they  gave 
him  a  cheer  of  cordial  welcome.  By  this  time 
Paul  had  come  to  the  platform,  and  could  not 


242       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

forbear  a  smile  at  Mr.  Milltrum's  characteristic 
introduction  of  himself. 

"  This  gentleman,"  Mr.  Milltrum  continued, 
waving  his  hat  in  the  direction  of  Paul,  "  is  my 
partner,  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  has  an  interest 
in  some  of  these  mines.  Well,  you  can  trust  him 
to  do  the  fair,  square  thing  every  time  and  every 
day  in  the  year." 

At  this,  Paul  took  off  his  hat,  and,  smiling 
pleasantly,  bowed  an  acknowledgment,  which 
caused  the  Virginians  to  cheer  him  as  they  had 
Mr.  Milltrum. ' 

The  car  was  run  on  a  siding,  and  the  company, 
with  the  exception  of  Judith,  started  out  to  ex- 
plore the  town. 

Leaning  back  in  her  chair,  in  a  cool,  white 
dress,  sufficiently  interested  to  enjoy  the  scene 
around  her,  Judith,  to  such  Virginians  as  could 
see  her,  offered  a  picture  rarely  seen,  either  there 
or  anywhere.  And  small  wonder  if  many  in  that 
company  envied  this  elegant,  graceful,  marvel- 
lously beautiful  woman,  reclining  luxuriantly  in 
her  willow  chair,  her  glorious  eyes  filled  with  the 
light  that  came  streaming  from  the  hills,  and  a 
smile  of  amusement  playing  on  her  tempting  lips ! 
Who  would  not  envy  one  so  happily  placed? 
When  a  woman  has  youth,  beauty,  health,  wealth, 
has  she  not  the  world  at  her  feet,  and  what  more 
can  life  give? 

About  an  hour  after  the  Milltrums,  with  Paul 


A    TRIP    TO    NEVADA  243 

Bedford,  had  gone  to  interview  the  storekeepers 
of  Virginia,  a  man  drove  up  to  the  station,  and, 
when  he  had  securely  fastened  his  horse  in  the 
little  shed,  went  across  the  track  to  the  ticket- 
office. 

Not  having  anything  to  do  just  then,  and 
most  of  the  Virginians  being  taken  up  with  their 
own  affairs,  Judith  followed  the  movements  of 
the  newcomer  with  considerable  interest.  That 
he  was  a  man,  full-grown,  she  saw  at  a  glance, 
and  yet  he  was  so  short  in  stature  as  to  be  prac- 
tically a  dwarf.  Had  he  worn  a  short  coat  or 
jacket,  at  a  distance  he  might  have  been  mistaken 
for  a  boy,  but,  for  some  reason,  he  affected  a 
garment  of  undue  length,  with  results  far  from 
helpful  to  his  personal  appearance.  As  he  came 
nearer,  she  saw  that  he  was  black,  and  of  power- 
ful frame,  almost  a  giant,  judging  by  his  chest 
and  shoulders.  If  Judith  had  not  been  from  the 
far  South,  such  a  figure  would  have  startled  her ; 
even  as  it  was,  she  felt  a  measure  of  discomfort. 
She  saw  him  go  into  the  ticket-office,  and,  in  a 
few  moments,  come  out,  followed  by  the  station- 
master,  whose  face  wore  a  heavy,  puzzled  ex- 
pression. To  her  surprise,  the  station-master 
came  down  the  track  toward  the  car  in  which  she 
was  sitting,  holding  a  letter  in  his  hand,  the  dwarf 
following  not  far  behind  him. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Paul  Bedford?"  the  station- 
master  inquired  of  the  car  conductor,  who  was 


244       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

standing  on  the  track  not  far  from  the  window 
where  Judith  sat. 

"  He  went  up-town  about  an  hour  ago,"  the 
conductor  replied. 

"  When  is  he  likely  to  be  back  ?  Here  is  a 
letter,  rather  important,  I  guess,  but  I  can't  make 
anything  out  of  the  chap  who  brought  it.  He 
is  Simlick's  man,  and  Simlick  owns  some  mines 
not  far  from  here." 

The  conductor,  who  had  been  with  the  party 
during  all  of  the  trip,  a  fine,  capable  fellow,  looked 
inquiringly  at  the  station-master,  then  at  the 
strange  creature  who  was  spoken  of  as  "  Sim- 
lick's  man." 

"  He's  dumb,  but  not  deaf ;  he  understands 
well  enough  what's  said  to  him,  but  he  can't  make 
you  understand  him.  Sometimes  he's  an  awfully 
aggravating  fellow,  and  then  again  he  manages 
first  rate." 

"  Leave  the  letter  here  with  me,  and  I  will 
give  it  to  Mr.  Bedford  as  soon  as  he  comes  back," 
the  conductor  said,  reaching  out  his  hand  to  the 
station-master,  but,  before  the  letter  could  pass 
from  one  to  the  other,  the  dwarf  interposed,  and, 
by  very  definite  signs,  expressed  positive  disap- 
proval. 

"  Has  the  critter  a  name  ? "  the  conductor 
asked,  now  considerably  amused. 

"  Mr.  Simlick  calls  him  Yoba,  and  so  we  all 
call  him  hereabouts.  Isn't  he  the  queerest  chap 


A    TRIP    TO    NEVADA  245 

you  ever  saw?  I  guess  he  will  have  to  wait 
for  Mr.  Bedford." 

Yoba !  Here  in  Nevada !  Every  drop  of  blood 
left  Judith's  face  as  she  heard  the  familiar  name. 
True,  she  had  never  seen  the  dwarf,  but  Bothwell 
had  often  spoken  of  him,  and  she  remembered 
that,  in  his  last  letter,  he  mentioned  Yoba  as 
having  charge  of  the  jewel-box.  By  what  strange 
chance  had  he  come  to  Nevada?  And  why  did 
he  disappear  so  strangely  from  New  York? 
More  than  a  year  ago  he  had  left  the  Sembrada, 
and,  though  she  had  employed  the  same  detective 
whose  search  for  Bothwell  was  so  skilfully  con- 
ducted, in  the  case  of  Yoba  he  could  do  nothing. 
And  now  to  have  him  appear  in  this  far-off  place 
so  startled  her  that  for  the  time  she  seemed  as 
one  in  a  dream. 

"  How  long  have  you  known  him  ?  "  she  heard 
the  conductor  ask. 

"  About  a  year,"  the  station-master  replied. 
"  He  came  with  Mr.  Simlick,  who  is  nearly  as 
close-mouthed  as  Yoba.  But  he's  been  wonder- 
fully lucky." 

"How  so?" 

"  Most  every  way.  Of  course,  he  didn't  come 
out  here  empty-handed,  and,  if  a  man  has  money 
to  start  with,  the  rest  is  easy.  But  Simlick  seemed 
to  know  just  where  to  put  in  his  bar." 

"  Where  did  he  come  from?  "  How  Judith  lis- 
tened for  the  station-master's  reply! 


246       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  New  England  somewhere.  His  folks,  I  be- 
lieve, were  Austrians.  At  any  rate,  that  was  the 
record  made  in  the  county  clerk's  office  when  he 
was  having  the  title-deeds  made  out." 

In  Austria!  Judith  now  breathed  with  com- 
parative freedom.  Some  color  came  back  to  her 
face.  But,  as  the  station-master  went  on,  the 
color  died  away  again. 

"  We  have  our  own  notions  here  about  Mr. 
Simlick.  Some  of  us  think  he  is  no  more  Aus- 
trian than  I  am.  But  that  is  neither  here  nor 
there.  One  sure  thing,  he  is  making  money  hand 
over  fist,  and,  unless  something  happens,  he  will 
soon  have  shekles  enough  to  build  a  house  of 
solid  silver  from  cellar  to  attic." 

All  this  time  Yoba  stood  between  the  station- 
master  and  the  conductor,  looking  first  at  one, 
then  at  the  other,  listening  eagerly  to  what  was 
being  said,  apparently  understanding  every  word. 

Partly  reassured,  but  anxious  to  learn  all  that 
was  possible  of  Simlick,  Judith  leaned  out  of  the 
window,  and,  addressing  the  car  conductor,  said : 

"  Mr.  Bates,  did  I  hear  you  say  that  some  one 
had  brought  a  letter  for  Mr.  Bedford  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  he  answered,  coming  to  the 
window. 

"  Give  it  to  me,"  Judith  said,  with  a  degree  of 
imperiousness  in  her  voice.  This  caused  Yoba  to 
look  up  to  the  window,  and  a  strange  expression 
came  upon  his  face.  There  seemed  in  his  eyes 


A    TRIP    TO    NEVADA  247 

a  flash  of  recognition.  This  was  instantly  fol- 
lowed by  a  look  of  amazement.  Immediately  he 
was  at  the  station-master's  side,  and,  snatching 
the  letter  from  his  hand,  hurried  across  the  track. 

"Don't  follow  him,  Mr.  Bates,"  Judith  said, 
excitedly,  for  she  was  now  almost  certain  that 
Yoba  recognized  her,  and  had  declined,  therefore, 
to  permit  Mr.  Simlick's  letter  to  pass  into  her 
possession. 

There  was  no  necessity  of  the  conductor  mak- 
ing any  reply,  for,  before  Yoba  had  reached  the 
ticket-office,  Paul  Bedford,  at  the  head  of  the 
Milltrum  party,  all  laden  down  with  parcels  and 
bundles  of  every  imaginable  shape  and  size,  came 
down  the  road  from  Virginia. 

"  There  is  Mr.  Bedford  now,"  the  station- 
master  said,  and,  without  waiting  to  hear  the 
muttered  comment  of  the  angry  Bates,  he  fol- 
lowed Yoba,  and,  touching  him  on  the  shoulder, 
pointed  to  Paul  Bedford.  This  Yoba  seemed  to 
understand,  for  he  stopped  and  waited  until  the 
party  had  reached  the  car.  Then  he  looked  at 
the  station-master,  who  merely  nodded  when  they 
both  recrossed  the  track,  Yoba  with  the  letter  in 
his  hand. 

"  A  letter  for  you,  Mr.  Bedford,"  the  station- 
master  said,  pointing  to  Yoba,  who  at  once 
stepped  up  to  Paul  and  handed  him  Mr.  Simlick's 
communication. 

Judith  still  sat  at  the  open  window,  and,  as 


248       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Paul  took  the  letter,  her  face  whitened  as  if  in 
death,  and  she  saw  that  when  Yoba  recognized 
Paul  a  gleam  of  hate  shone  from  his  eyes.  What 
could  it  all  mean?  By  what  strange  ordering  of 
fate  had  her  wedding- journey  been  so  planned 
as  to  bring  her  into  contact  with  Yoba,  whose 
presence  was  a  menace  in  itself?  And  who  was 
the  Mr.  Simlick,  to  whom  Yoba  gave  such  serv- 
ice ?  Surely  Bothwell  —  but,  no,  that  could  not 
be  possible.  Only  an  hour  before  every  woman 
in  the  company  gathered  at  the  Virginia  station 
envied  the  rich,  beautiful  young  bride,  as  she 
rested  her  proud  head  against  the  cushions  of 
her  chair  and  looked  carelessly  at  the  throng. 

Now  there  was  a  thorn  with  the  rose,  one  all 
the  more  terrible  because  only  the  wearer  of  the 
rose  knew  of  its  existence. 


T 


X. 

A  CONFERENCE  AT  THE  STATION 


HE  letter  causing  all  this  commotion  was 
seemingly  a  simple,  inoffensive  note,  and  read  as 
follows : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  —  Our  station-master  in- 
formed me  this  morning  that  you  were  expected 
in  Virginia  sometime  to-day.  As  there  is  a 
slight  misunderstanding  regarding  the  boundaries 
of  our  respective  properties,  I  hasten  to  ask  for 
a  short  interview  this  evening,  as  I  believe  we 
can  adjust  matters  in  a  few  minutes.  I  will  ar- 
range with  the  station-master  for  the  use  of  his 
office,  where  we  can  have  a  table  large  enough  for 
our  maps,  and  make  such  comparisons  as  may  be 
necessary.  We  have  no  trains  in  Virginia  later 
than  seven  o'clock;  any  time  after  that  will  be 
convenient  for  the  station-master.  Kindly  send 
word  by  bearer. 

"  Very  truly  yours, 

"  HENRY  SIMLICK. 

"To  Mr.   Paul  Bedford" 

249 


250       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Simlick !  Simlick !  "  Paul  said,  trying  to  re- 
call the  name.  "  Oh,  I  remember  now.  He  is 
the  owner  of  some  property  adjoining  ours. 
Haven't  you  heard  of  him,  Mr.  Milltrum  ?  " 

Mr.  Milltrum  was  not  thinking  of  Mr.  Sim- 
lick  just  then.  He  was  engaged  in  a  critical 
but  kindly  study  of  Yoba,  whose  personal  appear- 
ance had  excited  his  curiosity.  His  long  coat, 
his  short  legs,  his  immense  shoulders  and  chest, 
his  keen,  quick  eyes,  glancing  from  one  to  an- 
other in  the  little  group,  suggested  to  Mr.  Mill- 
trum the  mounfain  scene  in  "  Rip  Van  Winkle," 
and  he  could  scarce  forbear  a  smile.  Apparently 
Yoba  was  by  no  means  displeased  at  the  manifest 
interest  of  Mr.  Milltrum,  for  he  smiled  when  Mr. 
Milltrum  smiled,  he  nodded  when  Mr.  Milltrum 
nodded,  and  when,  finally,  the  genial  old  gentle- 
man, out  of  sheer  pity  for  the  unfortunate  crea- 
ture, extended  his  hand  in  silent  sympathy,  Yoba 
not  only  took  it,  but  in  an  instant  placed  it  on 
his  head  as  a  token  of  gratitude  and  submission. 
Mr.  Milltrum  little  imagined  all  that  his  simple 
kindness  involved.  Just  as  a  piece  of  cunningly 
hidden  steel  may  affect  the  needle  in  a  ship's  com- 
pass, and  send  the  vessel  far  out  of  the  course 
originally  intended,  so  was  that  handshake  of 
Mr.  Milltrum's.  For  Yoba  had  been  so  treated 
by  cruel  and  unthinking  people  that  he  was  now 
more  of  a  savage  than  any  of  the  tribe  from  which 
he  had  been  stolen  in  his  youth.  Men  had  flung 


A   CONFERENCE   AT   THE   STATION    251 

jibes  after  him  on  the  street.  Boys  had  danced 
around  him  in  mockery.  Little  girls  had  fled 
from  him  in  terror.  Women  had  openly  shud- 
dered in  his  presence.  Everywhere  he  had  been 
made  a  laughing-stock  and  butt  for  ridicule. 
Hatred  had  therefore  so  taken  possession  of  him 
that  he  sought  every  possible  opportunity  of  re- 
venge, and  he  would  chuckle  and  croak  with  fiend- 
ish pleasure  at  horrors  from  which  other  men 
would  turn  terror-stricken. 

To  have  Mr.  Milltrum  look  at  him  with  pity; 
to  hear  him  express  to  the  station-master  his 
sympathy  with  Yoba's  sad  condition;  to  feel 
something  of  what  was  meant  in  the  grasp  of  that 
kindly  hand !  No  wonder  the  poor  fellow's  face 
lit  up  with  singular  pleasure,  for  never  before 
had  he  been  favored  with  such  a  greeting,  and, 
when  he  reverently  placed  Mr.  Milltrum's  hand 
upon  his  head,  by  that  act  he  constituted  himself 
both  the  slave  and  protector  of  the  one  who  had 
so  honored  him. 

After  reading  Mr.  Simlick's  letter,  Paul  Bed- 
ford went  to  the  writing-desk  in  the  car,  where 
he  wrote  a  courteous  reply,  accepting  the  appoint- 
ment, and  naming  the  hour  when  he  would  go 
to  the  station-master's  office.  This  he  gave  to 
Yoba,  who  immediately  started  for  the  wagon- 
shed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  drove  rapidly  away. 

Yoba  formed  a  general  subject  for  conversa- 
tion at  the  dinner-table,  where  the  party  assem- 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

bled  soon  after  he  had  gone.  Mr.  Milltrum  had 
made  excellent  use  of  the  interval  between  Yoba's 
departure  and  the  dinner-hour  to  learn  all  that 
was  possible  of  the  ill-favored  dwarf  and  his 
mysterious  master,  questioning  and  cross-ques- 
tioning the  station-master  after  the  manner  of  a 
criminal  lawyer.  At  the  dinner-table,  Mr.  Mill- 
trum took  a  leading  part  in  the  conversation. 

"  Paul,  I  am  glad  we  have  gone  into  mining. 
We  may  be  as  fortunate  as  Mr.  Simlick.  Who 
knows?  He  has  been  here  only  a  year,  and  yet 
has  made,  according  to  the  station-master,  three 
big  fortunes.  Peggy,  I  have  made  up  my  mind, 
if  this  Virginia  venture  succeeds,  to  have  you 
married,  no  matter  what  it  costs;  you  are  in 
Maud's  way,  and  it  isn't  fair.  I  know,  of  course, 
it  will  take  a  lot  of  money  to  do  this,  but  I  am 
desperate,  Peggy,  for  your  chances  are  shorten- 
ing up.  Meantime,  these  berries  are  not  half- 
bad.  Thank  you,  yes,  I  will,  seeing  you  insist 
on  it." 

"  Why  not  make  some  arrangements  with  Mr. 
Simlick?  He  is  to  meet  Paul  this  evening.  As 
the  despairing  uncle,  appeal  to  him.  Urge  the 
claims  of  the  lonely,  yearning  female.  Take  with 
you  a  typewritten  list  of  my  virtues  and  qualifica- 
tions. Something  may  come  of  it,  uncle.  As  a 
proof  of  my  anxiety,  I  have  given  you  the  largest 
and  nicest  berries  in  the  dish." 

"Let  Maud  write  that  list,  Peggy.     A  little 


A   CONFERENCE   AT   THE   STATION    253 

of  her  handwriting  goes  a  long  way.  She  can 
use  up  more  paper  and  say  less  than  most  people. 
Her  caligraphy  is  really  imposing,  and  then  it  is 
so  wonderfully  indefinite.  One  can  read  out  of 
it  almost  anything." 

"  Paul  Bedford,  I  am  ashamed  of  you !  The 
idea  of  intimating  that  a  list  of  Peggy's  virtues 
would  not  cover  a  sheet  of  paper !  To  begin  with, 
she  is  —  " 

"  Yes,  she  is,  Maud,  she  is,  and  has  been  for 
these  many  years.  As  her  patient,  long-suffering 
uncle,  I  have  done  all  that  was  possible,  and  yet 
she  is,  yes,  she  is." 

"  Give  me  one  more  chance,  uncle.  See  this 
Mr.  Simlick.  Use  that  moving,  tearful  eloquence 
of  yours.  Put  the  case  to  him  so  that  it  may 
appeal  to  his  chivalry.  Perhaps  it  may  end  with 
a  '  Bless  you,  my  children.' ' 

"Judith  evidently  has  no  such  expectation.  You 
observe  how  silent  she  is."  As  Mr.  Milltrum 
spoke,  he  looked  smilingly  at  Judith,  hoping  to 
arouse  her  interest  in  the  conversation.  Judith 
tried  to  smile,  but  it  was  a  poor,  pitiful  effort, 
an  expression  of  pain  rather  than  pleasure. 

"  It  might  be  well,  uncle,  before  drawing  up 
the  settlements,  to  make  inquiries  as  to  Mr.  Sim- 
lick's  domestic  arrangements.  There  may  be  a 
Mrs.  Simlick  somewhere.  Such  things  are  not 
uncommon.  These  mysterious  men  who  drop 
down  from  the  skies  are  not  always  angels.  Most 


254       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

of  them  have  been  on  the  earth  before.  Mrs. 
Simlick,  however,  supposing1  there  is  such  a 
woman,  may  be  willing  to  dispose  of  her  interest 
at  a  reasonable  price.  Some  women,  provided  the 
consideration  is —  Judith,  what  is  the  matter? 
Are  you  faint?  Open  the  window,  Paul.  It  is 
stifling  hot  here.  That  palm-leaf  fan,  Maud. 
There,  she  will  be  better  in  a  few  minutes." 

And  Miss  Milltrum  was  right,  for  soon  a  tinge 
of  color  came  back  to  Judith's  face  and  she  opened 
her  eyes,  though  with  a  strangely  frightened  look. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  she  said,  gently,  "  the  heat 
has  troubled  me  all  day.  Please  excuse  me  if  I 
go  to  my  room  for  a  little  while.  Thank  you, 
Paul,  but  really  there  is  no  need  of  it.  I  am 
all  right  now." 

Nevertheless,  she  leaned  heavily  on  Paul's  arm 
as  she  went  to  her  room,  and  her  face  was  almost 
as  white  as  the  pillow  which  Miss  Milltrum  placed 
under  her  head. 

Though  it  was  well  known  in  Virginia  that 
Mr.  Simlick  had  been  singularly  fortunate,  dis- 
covering silver  where  other  men  could  find  only 
dirt  and  sand,  besides  securing  claims  which 
promised  to  be  of  fabulous  value,  yet  he  lived 
in  a  rude  hut,  little  better  than  that  of  the  poorest 
miner.  He  was  sitting  on  a  bench  outside  his 
hut,  waiting  for  Yoba  to  return  from  Virginia. 
The  sun  had  gone  down,  but  it  was  warm  and 


A   CONFERENCE   AT   THE   STATION    255 

sultry,  with  sufficient  heaviness  in  the  air  to  sug- 
gest an  approaching  thunder-storm.  From  where 
he  sat  a  splendid  view  was  possible,  for  hills 
and  mountains  and  sky  stretched  away  into  dis- 
tances almost  measureless. 

Had  he  been  sensitive  to  his  surroundings,  the 
wonderful  stillness  of  that  hour  would  surely  have 
reproduced  itself  in  his  heart.  He  had  thrown  his 
hat  on  the  ground,  thus  disclosing  a  head  of 
splendid  proportions,  covered  with  a  shock  of 
coarse,  black  hair.  Instead  of  coat  and  vest  he 
wore  a  dark  blue  mining-shirt,  which,  unfastened 
at  the  neck,  revealed  a  chest  brawny  as  that  of 
a  Hercules.  In  his  belt  was  the  inevitable  revolver, 
an  ugly-looking  weapon,  and,  when  held  by 
such  a  hand  as  his,  it  meant  serious  business.  His 
trousers  below  the  knees  were  stuffed,  miner  fash- 
ion, into  his  long,  heavy  boots.  His  eyes  were 
keen  and  piercing  as  those  of  a  hawk,  and  rest- 
less and  eager  as  they  were  sharp  and  bril- 
liant. 

"  Damn  the  fellow !  "  he  muttered,  rising  from 
the  bench  and  going  to  the  end  of  the  hut,  where 
he  could  get  a  clearer  look  down  the  road. 

"  One  comfort,  anyhow,  he  doesn't  waste  his 
time  chattering,  otherwise  —  yes,  he  is  coming. 
Think  of  me  writing  a  letter  to  Paul  Bedford! 
Henry  Simlick,  ha,  ha!  And  actually  proposing 
a  friendly  conference!  " 

If  Paul  Bedford  had  seen  the  expression  on 


256       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Mr.  Simlick's  face  at  that  moment,  he  would  not 
have  so  readily  accorded  the  desired  interview, 
nor  sent  such  a  courteous  reply  to  the  letter  Yoba 
had  brought.  For  Simlick's  face  was  cruel,  vin- 
dictive, even  murderous. 

"  How  much  do  I  owe  Mr.  Paul  Bedford  ?  " 
Simlick  went  on,  for  Yoba  was  yet  half  a  mile 
distant.  "  One  for  interfering  in  the  case  of 
Bert  Vernon,"  and  he  tapped  the  revolver  sig- 
nificantly. "  Another  for  attempting  to  entrap 
Judith  with  his  claim  of  being  a  relation  of  hers. 
Another  for  rufriing  me  in  that  G.  S.  and  W.  deal, 
when  I  lost  every  penny  I  could  beg,  borrow,  or 
steal.  Another  for  putting  detectives  on  my  track, 
who  nearly  nabbed  me  in  Boston.  Four  in  all. 
And  Yoba  will  do  the  rest.  I  wonder  what  be- 
came of  Judith  ?  But,  of  course,  she  went  South. 
Perhaps  I  —  " 

Mr.  Simlick  returned  to  his  place  on  the  bench, 
where  Yoba  found  him  a  few  minutes  later,  smok- 
ing a  short  briar  pipe,  apparently  at  peace  with 
himself  and  every  one  else.  As  he  read  Paul 
Bedford's  letter,  a  hard,  bitter  smile  might  have 
been  seen  on  his  face;  then  he  went  inside  the 
hut  to  prepare  for  his  appointment  at  the  station- 
master's  office. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Paul  Bedford  awaited 
with  some  impatience  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Simlick, 
for  his  curiosity  had  been  aroused,  not  only  by 
the  letter  received  through  Yoba,  but  by  the  in- 


A   CONFERENCE   AT   THE   STATION    257 

terest  which  Judith  manifested  in  his  coming.  In 
the  early  evening  Judith  came  out  of  her  room, 
none  the  worse,  seemingly,  for  her  fainting-spell 
at  the  dinner-table.  Indeed,  she  appeared  better 
and  more  light-hearted  than  for  several  days,  and, 
when  Miss  Milltrum  playfully  reminded  Paul  of 
the  possibilities  involved  in  his  interview  with 
Mr.  Simlick,  Judith  insisted  on  his  bringing  back 
a  full  description  of  the  mysterious  miner. 

"  Has  Maud  made  out  that  list?  "  Paul  asked. 

"  I  used  up  all  the  writing-paper  in  the  desk, 
and  then  had  merely  started." 

"  There  was  only  a  half-sheet  of  note-paper  to 
begin  with,"  Mr.  Milltrum  said,  slyly. 

"  Peg§y  must  have  taken  it,  then ;  there  was  a 
ream  on  the  desk  this  morning,"  Paul  remarked, 
rising  from  his  chair. 

"  I  did,  for  I  wanted  to  prepare  a  list  for  '  the 
party  of  the  second  part.'  That  is  the  proper 
phrase,  Uncle  Lewis  ?  " 

"  As  correct,  my  dear,  as  though  you  had  made 
a  study  of  '  Coke  upon  Blackstone.' ' 

"  As  it  isn't  every  day  one  can  have  a  husband 
made  to  order,  and  as  Uncle  Lewis  has  promised 
to  pay  all  charges,  I  have  gone  in  for  the  real 
thing.  He  must  be  at  least  six  feet,  with  light 
hair,  blue  eyes,  beard  and  mustache  a  la  Alfred 
the  Great;  not  stout  nor  inclined  to  it,  and  with 
that  benign  expression  seen  in  pictures  of  certain 
famous  martyrs," 


258       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  That  martyr-like  expression  would  be  sure  to 
come  later,  Peggy." 

"Uncle  Lewis!" 

"  I  mean  the  chastening  influence  the  wife 
usually  exerts  on  the  husband.  Have  you  never 
noticed  the  patient,  pleading,  please-excuse-me 
look,  on  the  faces  of  men  as  they  pass  you 
on  the  street?  I  refer  to  married  men,  of 
course." 

"  And  have  you  never  noticed  the  pale,  weary, 
worn-out,  and  ready-to-die  look  on  the  faces  of 
the  women  who*  pass  you  on  the  street  ?  " 

"  You  refer  to  the  man-hunters  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,  Uncle  Lewis.  I  refer  to  the  noble 
army  of  martyrs  who  have  undertaken  the  fearful 
task  of  redeeming  man  from  destruction,  and 
crowning  his  years  with  gladness." 

"  There  speaks  my  brave  and  valiant  sister. 
Peggy,  I  am  proud  of  you.  The  man  who  comes 
down  upon  you  like  a  wolf  on  the  fold  will 
find  —  " 

"  No  spring  lamb ;  a  rather  unkind  remark, 
Maud,  however  truthful." 

"  Will  find  a  crabbed,  cranky,  crotchety  old 
uncle,  from  whom  the  wolf  will  turn  away  with 
terror." 

"  In  that  case  I  will  have  saved  the  wolf  from 
things  he  little  imagined,  Maud.  Later,  when  he 
knows  what  I  know,  he  will  return  with  a  heart 
bursting  with  gratitude." 


A   CONFERENCE   AT  THE   STATION    259 

"  As  Mr.  Simlick  is  likely  to  do  next  week  or 
next  year?  " 

"  Now  Peggy,  I  have  promised  to  help  you 
all  I  can.  But  I  dread  the  strain  on  my  con- 
science." 

"  You  have  reason  to.  An  article  unused  for 
so  long  is  liable  to  give  way." 

"  Give  it  up,  Mr.  Milltrum,  and  come  with  me," 
Paul  said,  laughingly.  "  We  mustn't  keep  the 
wolf  waiting." 

When  Paul,  with  Mr.  Milltrum,  entered  the 
station-master's  office,  he  found  a,  burly-looking 
man  rather  above  the  average  height,  whose  face 
was  almost  hidden  by  a  thick  black  beard,  and 
whose  hair,  uncropped  and  scraggy,  bulged  out 
under  his  slouched  hat.  A  pair  of  smoked  glasses, 
large  enough  to  completely  shadow  his  eyes,  added 
to  the  strangeness  of  his  appearance,  and  at  the 
first  glance  he  impressed  Paul  as  a  cross  between 
an  Armenian  peddler  and  a  Gay  Head  Indian. 
Though  the  evening  was  warm  he  wore  a  heavy 
reefer  turned  up  at  the  collar,  and  riding-boots 
that  reached  above  his  knees. 

"  My  name  is  Simlick,"  he  said  in  a  heavy 
guttural  voice,  turning  to  Paul.  "  May  I  ask 
which  of  you  gentlemen  is  Mr.  Paul  Bedford  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  Paul  answered,  and  would  have  ex- 
tended his  hand,  but  he  saw  that  Mr.  Simlick's 
hands  were  occupied,  one  with  a  riding-whip,  and 
the  other  with  a  roll  of  papers.  "  This  is  Mr. 


260       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Milltrum,"  Paul  continued,  "  the  head  of  the  firm 
with  which  I  am  connected." 

Mr.  Milltrum  bowed  courteously.  Mr.  Simlick 
merely  nodded. 

"  I  have  some  maps  and  deeds  here,"  Mr.  Sim- 
lick  said,  going  to  the  table  where  the  station-mas- 
ter had  placed  a  lamp. 

"  Ours,  I  regret  to  say,  are  in  New  York,"  Paul 
replied,  "  but  yours  will  doubtless  serve  for  pres- 
ent purposes." 

Mr.  Milltrum,  not  caring  to  trouble  himself 
with  the  tiresome  details  involved  in  a  careful 
study  of  mining-maps,  lit  a  cigar,  and,  taking  the 
only  comfortable  chair  in  the  place,  smoked  con- 
tentedly, knowing  that  Paul  would  attend  to  all 
that  was  necessary.  Still  he  was  considerably 
interested  in  Mr.  Simlick.  He  wondered  where 
he  came  from,  why  he  had  settled  in  Nevada,  and 
how  he  could  content  himself  with  the  rough  life 
of  a  mining-camp.  Though  his  voice  was  harsh, 
and  his  manners  rude,  the  keen  eyes  of  Mr.  Mill- 
trum detected  signs  of  a  former  condition  vastly 
different  from  this  brawling,  boorish  settlement. 

Quietly  smoking,  he  looked  at  the  two  men 
bending  over  the  table,  and  he  contrasted  the  one 
with  the  other.  Paul  was  clean  shaven,  his  bright, 
intelligent  face  thrown  into  bold  relief  by  the  lamp 
near  which  he  stood ;  the  other  hairy  as  an  Esau, 
with  almost  nothing  of  his  face  visible,  even  his 
eyes  hidden  under  the  dark  glasses;  the  one 


A  CONFERENCE   AT  THE   STATION    261 

speaking  in  low  but  decisive  tones,  his  meaning 
clear  and  definite  as  language  could  impart;  the 
other  shaggy  in  speech  as  in  appearance,  and  at 
times  vague  and  shambling;  the  one  laying  a 
strong  but  shapely  hand  on  the  map,  tracing  lines 
more  accurately  than  a  drawing-master;  the  other 
making  his  corrections  with  a  hand  coarse  and 
hardened  as  that  of  a  street  laborer.  Yet  there 
was  something  about  Mr.  Simlick  which  seemed 
familiar.  What  it  was  he  could  not  tell.  As- 
suredly not  his  voice,  for  it  was  foreign;  and 
he  could  well  believe  the  statement  of  the  station- 
master  about  Simlick's  parents  being  Austrians. 
His  bearing,  too,  was  not  that  of  a  New  Yorker, 
nor  of  Chicago  either;  for  Mr.  Milltrum  was  too 
well  acquainted  with  both  of  these  cities  not  to 
recognize  their  marks.  Still  he  could  not  shake 
off  the  impression  of  having  seen  Mr.  Simlick 
before.  But  where?  In  vain  he  ransacked  his 
memory,  going  over  places  and  people,  likely  and 
unlikely,  recalling  as  best  he  could  almost  every 
man  of  his  acquaintance.  The  feeling,  however, 
remained,  and  the  more  improbable  it  seemed, 
the  more  positive  he  became.  Seeing  that  the 
interview  was  likely  to  continue  longer  than 
Mr.  Simlick  had  suggested  in  his  letter,  Mr.  Mill- 
trum got  up  from  his  comfortable  chair  and 
said: 

"  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,  I  will  finish  my  cigar 
out-of-doors.    It  is  warm  in  this  office." 


262       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply  he  went  out,  mean- 
ing to  walk  up  and  down  the  deserted  platform, 
and  thus  work  off  some  of  his  perplexity.  But  to 
his  surprise  he  saw  Yoba  sitting  on  the  station 
truck,  his  eyes  brighter  even  than  in  the  daytime. 
It  was  now  almost  night,  but  the  summer  light 
had  not  all  left  the  sky.  Mr.  Milltrum  would  have 
spoken,  but  Yoba  signed  to  him  in  such  a  way 
that  he  instinctively  waved  his  hand  in  reply. 
Then  Yoba  beckoned  him  away  from  the  office 
window  to  the  end  of  the  platform,  Mr.  Milltrum 
following  with  "no  little  curiosity.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed that  Mr.  Milltrum  was  startled  when  he 
saw  Yoba  take  a  revolver  from  his  belt,  and  point 
it  toward  the  window  of  the  office  where  Mr. 
Simlick  and  Paul  Bedford  were  holding  their 
conference.  But  Yoba  did  not  fire  the  revolver; 
he  handed  it  instead  to  Mr.  Milltrum,  who  took 
it  somewhat  gingerly,  such  things  not  being  in  his 
line.  Yoba  then  led  him  back  to  the  office  win- 
dow, and,  after  making  signs  which  Mr.  Milltrum 
interpreted  as  an  appeal  for  silence,  raised  Mr. 
Milltrum's  hand  and  so  directed  it  that  the  re- 
volver covered  Paul  Bedford.  In  another  instant, 
before  he  had  the  faintest  inkling  of  Yoba's  mean- 
ing, the  dwarf  was  leading  him  down  the  platform 
to  the  place  they  had  just  left.  By  this  time  a 
dim  sense  of  Yoba's  purpose  was  beginning  to 
come  upon  Mr.  Milltrum.  Evidently  a  warning 
was  intended.  Some  one  had  murderous  designs 


A   CONFERENCE   AT   THE   STATION    263 

on  Paul  Bedford.  Yoba's  pantomime  now  began 
to  explain  itself.  But  why  was  he  so  fearful  of 
Mr.  Milltrum's  voice  reaching  Mr.  Simlick? 
Was  it  against  Simlick  that  Yoba  would  fain 
warn  Mr.  Milltrum?  For  a  few  moments  Mr. 
Milltrum  did  some  rapid  thinking.  The  cool, 
practised  man  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  accustomed 
to  emergencies,  sometimes  having  to  decide  the 
most  serious  matters  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
was  rarely  at  a  loss  to  know  the  right  thing  to 
do.  He  remembered  that  Yoba,  though  unable 
to  speak,  could  hear  and  understand,  so  he  in- 
stantly thought  of  a  plan  by  which  he  could 
communicate  with  him. 

Going  over  to  Yoba  and  speaking  in  a  low 
tone,  he  said : 

"  If  you  understand  what  I  say  give  me  your 
hand." 

Immediately  Yoba's  hand  was  in  his. 

"  When  I  ask  you  a  question,  and  you  want  to 
say  yes,  open  your  hand.  You  understand?  " 

The  hand  was  at  once  opened. 

"  And  when  I  ask  you  another  question  and 
you  want  to  say  no,  shut  your  hand,  so." 

Yoba's  big  black  hand  doubled  up. 

"  Now,  does  any  one  mean  to  shoot  Mr.  Paul 
Bedford?" 

Yoba  quickly  opened  his  hand. 

"  Some  one  intends  to  kill  him  ?  " 

The  hand  remained  open. 


264       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Will  it  be  safe  for  Mr.  Bedford  to  go  with 
Mr.  Simlick  to-morrow  ?  " 

The  hand  was  clenched. 

"  Does  Mr.  Simlick  know  anything  of  the 
matter  ?  " 

Yoba  folded  his  arms. 

"  You  won't  answer  that  question  ?  " 

Once  more  the  hand  was  tightly  shut. 

"  Is  Mr.  Simlick  a  good  master  to  you  ?  " 

The  hand  opened  widely. 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  leave  his  service  ?  " 

The  hand  was  shut. 

"  If  I  go  with  Mr.  Bedford  to-morrow  will  it 
save  him?  " 

The  hand  remained  shut. 

"  Then  we  are  not  to  go  near  the  mines  nor 
examine  the  property  ?  " 

The  hand  was  now  clenched. 

"Did  you  come  here  specially  to  warn  me?" 

Immediately  the  hand  opened,  every  finger 
stretched  to  its  limit. 

"  Does  Mr.  Simlick  know  you  are  here  ?  " 

The  hand  shut  again. 

Mr.  Milltrum  had  now  discovered  two  things : 
that  an  attempt  would  be  made  on  Paul  Bedford's 
life  if  a  suitable  opportunity  could  be  found,  and 
that  in  some  way  Mr.  Simlick  was  a  party  to  this 
infamy.  But  in  his  anger  at  the  treachery  of  Mr. 
Simlick,  he  did  not  forget  the  heroic  service  just 
rendered  by  Yoba.  What  motive  prompted  the 


A  CONFERENCE   AT  THE   STATION    265 

poor  fellow  to  render  this  service  he  could  not 
imagine.  That  he  should  tramp  all  these  weary 
miles  on  a  hot  sultry  night,  to  warn  the  unsus- 
pecting travellers  of  Paul  Bedford's  danger,  filled 
Mr.  Milltrum  with  amazement.  He  knew  that 
Yoba  was  not  actuated  by  a  sordid  hope  of  re- 
ward. Something  far  deeper  had  stirred  his 
soul.  Little  did  Mr.  Milltrum  imagine  that  his 
own  friendly  greeting  of  the  hapless  Yoba,  when 
a  few  hours  before  he  had  extended  his  hand 
in  silent  sympathy,  had  led  to  this  result. 

Taking  a  card  from  his  pocket  he  gave  it  to 
Yoba,  saying  at  the  same  time : 

"  If  you  ever  need  a  friend  come  to  me,"  then 
extending  his  hand  once  more  he  bade  him 
good-by. 

Again  Yoba  placed  Mr.  Milltrum's  hand  on  his 
head,  then  he  reverently  touched  it  with  his  lips, 
and  in  a  moment  had  disappeared. 


XI. 

AN  INTERRUPTED  EXCURSION 

1  AUL  BEDFORD  found,  as  he  carefully 
studied  Mr.  Simlick's  maps,  that  several  very 
important  questions  were  involved,  some  of  them 
more  serious  than  he  had  been  led  to  expect. 
Under  ordinary  circumstances  a  little  strip  of 
barren  soil  is  not  a  matter  of  special  consequence, 
and  the  boundary  which  marks  off  one  property 
from  another  has  no  particular  meaning.  But 
when  the  line  of  division  relates  to  silver  mines, 
and  may  result  in  making  one  man  rich  at  the 
expense  of  another,  a  proper  adjustment  is  most 
desirable.  In  this  case,  Paul,  while  willing  to 
concede  that  Mr.  Simlick  had  certain  claims  and 
rights,  insisted  that  the  Milltrum  properties  had 
still  larger  claims  and  rights,  and  of  much  higher 
legal  value. 

"  The  only  way  to  settle  it,  then,  is  for  you  to 
visit  the  property.  If  you  wish,  I  will  arrange 
with  our  surveyor.  He  can  go  over  the  ground 
with  us.  What  say  you?  " 

266 


AN    INTERRUPTED    EXCURSION    267 

It  was  Mr.  Simlick  who  made  this  proposition, 
rolling  up  the  maps  and  papers  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  had  other  plans  for  to-morrow,"  Paul 
answered,  lighting  his  cigar  at  the  table  lamp, 
"  but  perhaps  it  can  be  arranged." 

Just  then  Mr.  Milltrum  came  in,  and  Paul 
asked  him  if  time  could  be  given  to  a  personal 
investigation  of  the  matters  under  dispute. 

"  I  wouldn't  waste  two  minutes  on  it,"  Mr. 
Milltrum  said,  decisively.  "What  is  the  use? 
Our  maps  and  deeds  are  in  New  York.  There 
is  nothing  to  guide  us  here  except  the  papers  Mr. 
Simlick  has  shown  you  to-night.  If  you  can't 
reach  an  agreement  now,  where  you  have  every- 
thing before  your  eyes,  you  certainly  won't  reach 
one  to-morrow  riding  over  a  country  which  has 
neither  fence  nor  wall,  and  where  no  visible 
boundary  exists." 

Mr.  Milltrum  spoke  positively.  There  was  even 
a  ring  of  authority  in  his  voice. 

For  this  moment  he  was  the  senior  partner. 
Generally  he  allowed  Paul  full  swing.  But  occa- 
sionally he  took  the  quarter-deck,  and  when  he 
did  Paul  touched  his  cap  respectfully. 

"  All  right,"  Mr.  Simlick  said,  ungraciously. 
"  If  there  is  trouble  afterwards,  don't  blame  me. 
One  of  these  days  I  intend  to  sell  out  to  a  syndi- 
cate now  being  formed  in  New  York.  You  may 
find  settlement  more  difficult  then."  Mr.  Sim- 
lick's  smile  was  not  alluring  at  that  moment. 


268       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Evidently  he  resented  Mr.  Milltrum's  interfer- 
ence. 

"  I  don't  care  for  all  the  syndicates  between 
here  and  Patagonia,"  Mr.  Milltrum  said,  still  on 
the  quarter-deck,  and  with  the  trumpet  at  his 
mouth. 

"  Men  have  said  that  before  and  have  been 
sorry  enough  for  it  afterwards,"  Mr.  Simlick  said, 
sneeringly. 

"  Very  likely,  only  in  this  instance  the  syndicate 
will  do  whatever  weeping  has  to  be  done." 

Paul  had  never  seen  Mr.  Milltrum  so  stirred 
up  over,  what  seemed  to  him,  a  kindly  proposal 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Simlick.  Mr.  Milltrum  rarely 
allowed  business  matters  to  disturb  him.  Occa- 
sionally he  would  stamp  and  storm,  but  only  at 
some  treacherous,  underhand  scheme,  which 
aroused  all  the  anger  of  which  he  was  capable. 

"  I  don't  think  you  quite  understand  Mr.  Sim- 
lick's  suggestion,"  Paul  said,  pleasantly. 

"  Yes,  I  do.  I  understand  it  thoroughly.  A 
healthy  suggestion  it  is,  too.  You,  the  representa- 
tive of  a  firm  which  has  lately  made  large  pur- 
chases of  mining  property,  are  asked  to  go 
wandering  through  a  country  hardly  more  than 
half-savage,  and  where  there  is  dispute  concern- 
ing the  property  you  claim.  The  thing  is  not  to 
be  thought  of." 

"  We  are  not  quite  so  lawless  as  you  imagine," 
Mr.  Simlick  said,  angrily. 


AN    INTERRUPTED    EXCURSION    269 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  the  temptation  to  refer  the 
question  of  ownership  to  the  chance  shot  of  a 
revolver  might  prove  too  much  for  some  men." 

"  You  forget  that  Mr.  Bedford  would  be  under 
my  protection,"  Mr.  Simlick  said,  now  blazing 
with  anger. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  Mr.  Milltrum  almost  shouted, 
thinking  of  Yoba's  warning. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"  Just  what  I  have  said,  sir." 

The  two  men  were  now  within  reaching  dis- 
tance of  each  other,  each  looking  defiantly  into  the 
other's  face.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if 
Simlick  would  throw  himself  upon  Mr.  Milltrum, 
for  he  was  at  a  point  of  fury  bordering  upon  mad- 
ness, but  for  some  reason  he  hesitated,  and  then 
turning  contemptuously,  walked  out  of  the  little 
office.  Paul  was  both  amazed  and  mortified. 
Mr.  Milltrum's  anger  seemed  without  excuse. 
To  treat  a  friendly  proposition  in  this  high- 
handed way  was  positively  insulting.  Never  be- 
fore had  he  known  Mr.  Milltrum  to  be  guilty  of 
such  discourtesy.  He  was  therefore  indignant, 
and  silently  chewed  the  end  of  his  cigar,  not  dar- 
ing to  speak  lest  he  give  vent  to  something  of  his 
feeling.  Neither  did  Mr.  Milltrum  say  anything. 
Had  he  been  a  graven  image  he  could  not  have 
stood  more  silent,  until  he  heard  the  clatter  of 
horse's  hoofs  coming  up  the  road  from  the  wagon- 
shed,  and  then  die  away  in  the  distance. 


270       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  We  are  much  obliged  for  the  use  of  your 
office,"  he  said  to  the  station-master.  "  Kindly 
smoke  with  me/'  taking  out  of  his  pocket  an 
envelope  prepared  for  the  occasion. 

Going  back  to  the  car,  Mr.  Milltrum  told 
Paul  of  Yoba's  mysterious  warning.  Paul  was 
astounded.  That  a  disputed  claim  could  lead  to 
such  results  seemed  incomprehensible.  He  had 
always  known  that  mining  communities  were 
more  or  less  indifferent  to  court  decrees  and  legal 
settlements,  but  for  a  man  to  be  lured  to  his  death 
under  the  pretence  of  adjusting  a  dispute  revealed 
a  condition  at  which  he  stood  aghast.  They  both 
agreed,  however,  not  to  say  anything  of  the 
matter,  but  to  make  some  excuse  for  leaving 
Virginia  by  the  first  train  in  the  morning  to  which 
their  car  could  be  attached. 

The  hour  spent  by  Paul  and  Mr.  Milltrum  in 
the  station-master's  office  was  one  of  intolerable 
agony  to  Judith.  Most  of  the  time  she  was  in 
her  room,  where  with  haggard  face,  burning 
eyes,  clenched  hands,  she  looked  the  picture  of 
wretchedness  and  despair.  More  than  once  she 
buried  her  head  in  the  couch  pillows,  lest  her 
sighs  and  gasps  might  be  heard  by  Miss  Milltrum 
or  Maud.  Then,  under  her  breath,  she  would 
mutter : 

"  I  will  not !  I  will  not !  I  don't  care  what  the 
consequences  are." 

But,  immediately  following  these  suppressed 


AN    INTERRUPTED    EXCURSION    271 

cries,  she  would  shiver  from  head  to  foot,  as 
though  affected  by  a  sudden  chill.  Again  she 
would  softly  whisper: 

"  It  cannot  be.  It  is  merely  a  wild,  foolish 
notion.  Why  do  I  distress  myself  in  this  silly 
way?" 

A  more  quiet  expression  would  then  come  upon 
her  face,  and,  going  to  the  mirror,  she  would 
smile  at  herself  and  at  the  notions  which  had  so 
distressed  her.  This  feeling,  though,  soon  passed 
away,  and  the  tumult  began  anew. 

"What  if  it  should  be?  My  God,  just  think 
of  it !  Oh,  why  did  we  ever  come  to  this  wretched 
place?  And  why  did  that  miserable  dwarf  come 
with  a  letter  for  Paul?  Perhaps  if  I  had  seen 
the  letter  I  could  then  have  told.  But  I  did  not 
dare  to  ask  Paul  for  it  lest  —  oh,  I  shall  go  mad 
unless  they  come  back  soon." 

Once  more  she  would  start  from  her  chair,  and, 
like  a  caged  tigress,  walk  to  and  fro  in  the  little 
room. 

"Ah!  I  hear  steps  on  the  road.  They  are 
coming  this  way.  Now  they  are  almost  at  the  car. 
I  will  wait  here  and  listen." 

"Well,  what  about  the  wolf?"  Maud  asked, 
when  Mr.  Milltrum  came  in. 

How  Judith  strained  her  ears,  not  only  to  hear 
his  reply,  but  to  catch  the  tone  of  his  voice ! 

"The  wolf  has  gone.  I  mentioned  Peggy's 
name  to  him,  called  his  attention  to  the  long  list 


272       THE    MYSTERY   OF   MIRIAM 

of  her  virtues,  offered  him  half  of  my  kingdom 
as  a  wedding-portion,  and  made  the  most  elo- 
quent plea  of  my  life,  but  he  refused  pointblank. 
I  am  afraid  your  last  chance  is  gone,  Peggy." 

"  Was  he  tall  and  fair,  as  I  insisted  on  ?  " 

"  No,  he  was  dumpy  and  black." 

"  Had  he  blue  eyes  and  a  King  Alfred  beard  ?  " 

"  His  eyes  were  goggled,  and  he  had  beard 
enough  for  a  ship-load  of  pirates." 

"  Had  he  a  rich,  expressive  voice,  with  a  tender 
Romeo  accent?  " 

"  He  had  a  voice  like  an  animated  beer  barrel, 
and  an  accent  of  matted  hair  and  cowhide 
boots." 

"  My  romance,  then,  is  over.  But  I  am  very 
grateful  to  you,  Uncle  Lewis.  Of  course  I  can- 
not but  feel  distressed  at  the  way  things  have 
turned  out.  But  I  must  submit." 

"  Where  is  Judith  ?  "  Paul  asked,  on  coming 
in  and  not  seeing  her  with  the  others. 

"  Here,  sir,"  she  answered,  playfully,  stepping 
out  from  her  room  with  a  light  on  her  face  which 
transfigured  it,  and  a  glow  in  her  eyes  that  made 
them  shine  as  stars  in  an  Oriental  sky.  How 
different  from  the  Judith  of  an  hour  ago!  No 
care  now  to  mar  her  glorious  beauty.  No  marks 
of  fear  or  terror  distorting  her  features  so  that 
they  were  haggard  and  drawn.  With  easy  grace 
she  dropped  into  a  chair,  and  listened  eagerly  to 
Paul's  description  of  Mr.  Simlick.  Naturally 


AN  INTERRUPTED  EXCURSION  273 
Paul  exaggerated  his  portrayal  of  the  mysterious 
miner,  and,  before  he  had  half-finished  his  recital, 
Judith  saw,  as  in  a  picture,  a  stout,  squatty  for- 
eigner, coarse  of  face,  clumsy  of  figure,  with  a 
scraggy  beard;  a  blear-eyed,  unkempt  creature, 
without  even  the  most  distant  resemblance  to  the 
one  whose  face  had  haunted  her  since  Yoba's 
appearance  earlier  in  the  day. 

"  You  have  evidently  recovered  from  the  effects 
of  the  heat,"  Paul  remarked,  looking  admiringly 
at  Judith,  "  though  this  is  by  no  means  a  North 
Pole  atmosphere.  Bates,  my  good  fellow,  can't 
we  have  a  little  more  air?  " 

"  Everything  is  open,  sir,"  Bates  answered,  re- 
spectfully. 

"  Wrestling  with  the  wolf,  Paul,  has  over- 
heated you.  Peggy,  I  think,  owes  you  some  com- 
pensation. I  heard  her,  a  little  while  ago,  lay 
her  commands  on  the  cook.  She  probably  ex- 
pected the  wolf  to  return  with  you,  and,  in  his 
honor,  arranged  for  a  banquet." 

"Judith  is  speaking  for  herself,  Paul.  She 
was  so  distressed  at  dinner-time,  when  there 
seemed  a  probability  of  my  leaving  her,  that  she 
didn't  eat  a  morsel.  Hence  this  solicitude  for  your 
comfort." 

"  In  this  case,  I  must  take  sides  with  Judith. 
Peggy  has,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  been  hob- 
nobbing with  the  cook.  And  that  she  expected 
the  wolf  I  am  almost  positive.  When  was  Peggy 


274       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

so  arrayed?  When  did  Peggy  so  anxiously  con- 
sult the  mirror  in  her  dressing-room?  Peggy, 
my  dear,  bring  on  your  banquet.  And  give 
Judith  the  wolf's  portion.  Aunt  Maria  used  to 
say,  '  There  is  no  cure  for  trouble  like  constant 
eating,'  and,  as  I  am  in  serious  trouble,  the  best 
thing  under  the  circumstances  is  to  apply  the 
remedy." 

Peggy  had  a  genius  for  little  suppers,  and 
almost  every  evening  arranged  a  surprise  of  some 
sort.  Soon,  therefore,  the  company  were  enjoy- 
ing themselves  to  their  heart's  content,  and  the 
clatter  of  dishes,  the  clink  of  glasses,  ripples  of 
laughter,  and  flashes  of  wit  filled  up  what  was 
left  of  the  evening.  Judith  was  simply  irresisti- 
ble. She  mimicked,  and  she  drawled;  she 
twanged  on  the  banjo,  accompanying  herself  in 
some  plantation  melodies;  she  so  reproduced  the 
negro  of  her  girlish  days  that  they  could  see  his 
rolling  eyes,  his  opulent  smile,  and  hear  his  self- 
appreciative  chuckle.  It  may  have  been  the  wine, 
for  Judith  sipped,  unthinkingly  possibly,  some 
iced  champagne ;  but  whatever  the  cause,  she  was 
in  a  daring,  exultant  mood,  and  fairly  revelled  in 
the  excitement  of  the  hour. 

Before  going  to  his  room  Mr.  Milltrum  spoke 
to  the  car  conductor  of  the  change  in  his  plans, 
and  requested  him  to  connect  with  the  first  south- 
bound train,  as  the  party  intended  going  to  Los 
Angeles,  if  possible. 


AN   INTERRUPTED    EXCURSION    275 

Early  next  morning  the  car  was  coupled  to 
a  southern  express,  and  when  Judith  looked  out 
of  her  window,  Virginia  had  disappeared  in  the 
distance. 


BOOK  III. 

MIRIAM 


O: 


I. 

THE  AMERICAN  CHAPEL 


FNE  Sunday  morning  early  in  June,  three 
years  after  his  wedding-tour  in  Nevada,  Paul 
Bedford  came  out  of  the  Grand  Hotel  on  the 
Boulevard  de  Capucines,  and  stood  for  some 
minutes  watching  the  streams  of  people  as  they 
went  by.  Being  comparatively  familiar  with 
Paris,  Paul  could  shrewdly  guess  from  the  appear- 
ance of  many  in  the  throng  as  to  their  probable 
destination.  Some  were  en  route  to  the  suburbs, 
Vincennes,  St.  Germain,  Versailles,  evidently  bent 
on  a  day's  picnic  in  the  woods,  a  pleasure  ever 
dear  to  young  French  hearts.  Others,  less  ambi- 
tious in  their  desires,  probably  with  less  money 
in  their  pockets,  hastened  to  the  nearest  street-car 
line  connecting  with  the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  Nor 
was  the  pretty  little  Pare  de  Monceaux  in  danger 
of  desertion,  judging  by  the  groups  who  turned 
off  toward  the  Boulevard  Haussman.  A  laugh- 
ing, chatting,  eager,  vivacious  company  they 
surely  were,  many  of  them  in  the  spring-time  of 
life,  and  seemingly  as  free  of  care  or  shadow  as 
279 


280       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

the  sky  which  in  deep  unsullied  blue  arched  over 
their  heads. 

Paul  could  not  forbear  an  envious  sigh  when 
he  saw  a  group  of  light-hearted  students,  easy, 
careless,  debonair,  swinging  along  in  all  the  joy 
and  daring  of  youth.  More  than  once  he  found 
himself  watching  with  almost  pathetic  interest 
those  whom  he  suspected  were  lovers ;  the  young 
man  proudly  conscious,  and  supremely  happy  in 
the  new  life  with  which  his  own  was  now  blend- 
ing; the  young  woman  graceful,  coquettish,  a 
glad  light  shining  on  her  face.  Among  the  gaily 
dressed  throngs  he  would  see  at  times  a  woman 
clad  in  deep  mourning,  some  mother  going  to  the 
cemetery  of  Montmartre,  or  Pere  la  Chaise,  or  a 
daughter  with  an  offering  of  flowers  for  her 
mother's  grave. 

A  few  old  people,  whose  garments  betokened 
poverty,  walked  slowly  in  the  throng,  and  as  Paul 
watched  them  cross  the  wide  boulevard  he 
imagined  they  were  going  to  the  Church  of  the 
Madeleine,  almost  within  bow-shot  of  where  he 
was  standing. 

Having  no  definite  plan  for  the  morning,  Paul 
sauntered  easily  along  to  the  Rue  Royale,  where 
he  paused  a  few  minutes,  looking  at  the  Church 
of  the  Madeleine,  whose  splendid  doors  stood 
invitingly  open,  and  from  which  could  be  heard 
the  strains  of  the  "  Adeste  Fideles  "  ascending 
to  the  God  of  all  churches  and  of  all  nations.  The 


THE    AMERICAN    CHAPEL         281 

music  of  this  noble  hymn  deeply  affected  Paul. 
He  remembered  that  it  was  a  special  favorite  with 
Miriam,  and  he  could  almost  hear  her  sing :  — 
"  Oh,  come  all  ye  people,  joyful  and  triumphant !  " 

Walking  slowly  and  with  a  heart  crowded  with 
tender  memories,  he  reached  the  broad  steps  of 
the  church,  and  would  soon  have  taken  his  place 
among  the  worshippers,  when  he  remembered  that 
Doctor  Keithburn  had  been  announced  to  preach 
at  the  American  Chapel  on  the  Rue  de  Berri,  and 
that  he  had  partly  promised  to  meet  him  there. 

Looking  at  his  watch,  he  found  that  it  was  com- 
paratively early,  so  he  lit  a  cigar  and  strolled 
along,  his  thoughts  meanwhile  going  back  to  the 
time  when  he  first  met  Doctor  Keithburn.  How 
vividly  he  recalled  that  eventful  day  in  the  Saxby 
parlor  at  Pelham,  when  with  Miriam  leaning 
heavily  on  his  arm  he  heard  Doctor  Keithburn 
say,  "  I  now  pronounce  you  husband  and  wife," 
and  the  rich,  mellow  tones  of  the  clergyman 
thrilled  mysteriously  in  Paul's  heart.  And  that 
look  on  Miriam's  face!  Could  he  ever  forget  it? 
Or  the  love  that  shone  from  her  eyes  as  they 
eagerly  sought  his?  Or  the  sigh  of  delicious 
content  with  which  she  softly  whispered,  "  I  am 
yours  now,  Paul,  yours,  yours  "  ?  Or  the  terrible 
weeks  that  followed,  when  all  that  skill  could  sug- 
gest or  wealth  procure,  or  love  make  possible, 
were  spent  in  vain? 

Paul  Bedford  went  back  over  those  awful  days, 


282       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

when  Miriam  was  torn  from  his  arms,  her  bridal 
robe  changed  into  a  shroud,  and  her  sweet  face 
stilled  into  a  sleep  from  which  there  is  no  waking. 
The  birds  were  singing  in  the  trees  overhead,  the 
children  were  playing  in  the  grass  at  his  feet,  the 
flowers  were  rilling  the  air  with  a  fragrance 
sweeter  than  the  breath  of  angels,  the  sun  was 
shining  with  all  the  beauty  of  a  Parisian  summer 
morn,  but  he  was  unconscious  of  either  flowers 
or  songs;  his  thoughts  were  far  away;  his  eyes 
were  looking  into  those  of  Miriam ;  his  ears  were 
listening  to  her  voice;  in  some  mysterious  way 
his  spirit  was  communing  with  her  spirit,  and  he 
felt,  as  never  before,  that  she  was  touching  him 
with  unseen  hands.  Nine  years  she  had  been 
in  the  valley  of  silence,  the  dim,  voiceless  valley, 
into  whose  shadows  he  had  so  often  looked  with 
longing  eyes,  hoping  that  he  might  discern  some- 
thing of  her  gracious  form  or  feel  the  touch  of 
her  loving  hand.  But  no  form  had  come  to  him ; 
no  voice  had  spoken  to  him ;  no  hand  had  minis- 
tered to  him.  But  now  it  would  seem  as  though 
she  had  escaped  from  her  prison-house  of  mystery, 
and  was  encompassing  him  about  with  the  radi- 
ancy of  her  presence/ 

It  lacked  fully  fifteen  minutes  of  the  appointed 
time  for  service  when  Paul  reached  the  American 
Chapel  on  the  Rue  de  Berri,  but  he  went  in  and 
sat  down,  taking  a  seat  on  the  side  not  far  from 
the  door. 


THE    AMERICAN    CHAPEL         283 

Busy  with  his  own  thoughts,  and  in  a  mood 
which  craved  seclusion,  he  gave  little  heed  to 
the  groups  that  came  in,  though  most  of  them 
were  those  of  his  own  land.  Nor  did  he  take 
much  interest  in  the  opening  service,  preferring 
rather  the  emotions  which  had  come  to  him  while 
walking  to  the  chapel.  But  he  eagerly  followed 
the  movements  of  Doctor  Keithburn,  when  he 
saw  him  enter  the  pulpit,  and  he  listened  intently 
to  his  discourse. 

During  the  singing  of  the  closing  hymn,  Paul 
glanced  at  the  congregation,  in  which  he  recog- 
nized a  number  of  familiar  faces,  when  to  his 
amazement,  in  a  pew  almost  directly  across  the 
aisle,  he  saw  Miriam!  Miriam  Saxby!  Never 
was  a  man  more  startled.  Only  by  a  supreme 
effort  could  he  refrain  from  calling  her  by  name. 
His  face  became  deadly  pale.  His  eyes  flamed 
with  wonder.  Then  a  faintness  came  upon  him, 
and  he  would  have  fallen  to  the  floor,  had  he  not 
rested  his  hands  on  the  back  of  the  pew  immedi- 
ately in  front  of  where  he  stood.  Again  and 
again  he  looked  at  the  mysterious  figure  across 
the  aisle,  only  to  find  the  likeness  even  more  start- 
ling. The  same  height,  the  same  shapely  head, 
the  same  dainty  figure,  and  then,  when  she 
turned  slightly,  giving  him  a  clearer  view  of  her 
face,  he  saw  Miriam's  features  reproduced  with 
such  exactness  that  he  was  utterly  bewildered. 
As  in  a  dream  he  heard  Doctor  Keithburn  pro- 


284.       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

nounce  the  benediction,  and  felt  a  movement  on 
the  part  of  the  congregation,  but  he  had  no 
thought  or  care  for  anything  or  any  one,  save  the 
Miriam  whom  he  had  loved  and  lost  nine  years 
before.  He  resolved  to  wait  and  allow  the  con- 
gregation to  pass  out,  so  that  when  she  should 
come  down  the  aisle  toward  the  light  he  might 
have  opportunity  of  observing  her  closely. 

How  slowly  the  congregation  moved!  Would 
those  chattering  tourists  and  reunited  parties  ever 
leave  the  aisles?  How  senseless  the  inquiries 
they  were  making  one  of  the  other !  Could  they 
not  defer  their  conversation,  or  hold  it  somewhere 
else?  Every  moment  seemed  an  age  to  Paul 
Bedford.  His  soul  was  in  a  fever  of  impatience 
and  desire.  But  at  length  the  mysterious  stranger 
came  from  her  pew  to  the  aisle,  and  his  heart 
almost  ceased  beating.  For  there  stood  Miriam 
just  as  he  had  seen  her  when  he  first  went  to 
Pelham.  There  were  the  dark  eyes  full  of  hidden 
fire;  the  expressive  face  glowing  with  life  and 
light;  the  lips  curved  with  rare  delicacy,  and 
even  the  hair  arranged  as  in  the  other  days.  As 
though  these  were  not  enough,  the  costume  was 
as  quaint  and  simple  as  of  yore,  so  that  nothing 
was  lacking  to  make  the  resemblance  complete. 

"  What  does  it  all  mean  ?  Has  Miriam  really 
come  back  again?  Can  this  be  a  reincarnation? 
May  the  dead  after  a  time  revisit  the  earth  and 
resume  the  life  they  once  lived  in  the  flesh  ?  " 


THE    AMERICAN    CHAPEL         285 

These  were  among  the  questions  which  Paul 
asked  himself  as  he  watched  what  seemed  to  him 
a  vision  pass  slowly  down  the  aisle,  and  pause 
for  a  moment  or  two  at  the  pew  where  he  was 
standing.  The  pause,  however,  was  not  intended ; 
but  for  a  short  space  the  aisle  was  crowded  with 
a  party  of  friends  who  had  just  discovered  each 
other  in  the  chapel.  Nevertheless  that  was  a  seri- 
ous pause;  for  Paul  looked  intently  at  the 
stranger  who  had  so  attracted  him;  and  the 
stranger  looked  intently  at  Paul ;  the  one  because 
of  the  resemblance  to  the  dead,  the  other  because 
of  some  resemblance  to  the  living.  And  then,  in- 
credible as  it  may  seem,  each  flashed  upon  the 
other  a  look  of  recognition,  perhaps  less  a  look 
of  definite  recognition  than  of  wonder  and  sur- 
prise. 

Just  at  that  moment  Doctor  Keithburn  hurried 
down  the  aisle,  for  he  had  seen  Paul  Bedford  in 
the  congregation,  and  coming  to  his  pew  said 
in  his  hearty,  cordial  way: 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Bedford. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Saxby  are  at  the  '  Continental,' ' 
and  have  strictly  enjoined  me  not  to  return  with- 
out you.  Mrs.  Saxby,  you  know,  is  not  very 
well,  and  was  unable  to  attend  service  this  morn- 
ing." 

Doctor  Keithburn  then  went  on  to  speak  of 
other  things,  and  being  wholly  absorbed  in  his 
conversation  with  Paul  Bedford,  whom  he  had 


286       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

not  seen  for  some  years,  failed  to  observe  a  young 
lady  then  moving  slowly  toward  the  door.  But 
Paul's  eyes  followed  her  with  intense  interest,  for 
every  motion  suggested  Miriam.  And  each  in- 
stant made  the  resemblance  more  positive.  Had 
Miriam  not  died  in  his  arms,  and  had  he  not 
kissed  her  sweet,  dead  face,  he  would  have  been 
forced  to  believe  that  a  horrible  deception  had 
been  resorted  to,  of  which  he  had  been  made  the 
victim.  No  wonder,  therefore,  that  he  looked 
after  her  utterly  bewildered  and  mystified.  At 
the  vestibule  door  she  met  some  friends  who  de- 
tained her  a  few  moments,  which  gave  her  an 
opportunity  of  looking  back  at  the  tall,  handsome 
man,  then  speaking  with  Doctor  Keithburn,  whose 
presence  seemed  so  familiar  to  her,  and  yet  over 
whom  her  memory  had  struggled  in  vain. 

Then  she  passed  out  from  the  chapel,  her  mind 
as  confused  and  perplexed  as  that  of  Paul 
Bedford. 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Judith  this  morning," 
Miss  Milltrum  said  to  Paul,  on  his  return  from 
visiting  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Saxby,  with  whom  he  had 
spent  the  afternoon. 

"  Yes  ?  "  he  answered,  absently. 

"  She  has  taken  the  Llandoff  Cottage  and  ex- 
pects to  spend  the  summer  at  Newport." 

"  Then  she  has  changed  her  plans  ?  " 

"  Evidently." 


THE    AMERICAN    CHAPEL         287 

"  Mrs.  Helmsley,  I  presume,  will  go  with  her 
to  Newport  ?  " 

:<  Yes,  she  says  so  in  her  letter." 

"  I  think  the  arrangement  a  capital  one.  Judith 
likes  Newport,  and  she  is  not  partial  to  travelling. 
Of  course  —  " 

Paul  might  have  said  more,  for  he  allowed  him- 
self to  speak  freely  with  Miss  Milltrum,  but  just 
then  Maud  came  in,  followed  a  moment  or  two 
later  by  Mr.  Milltrum. 

After  a  time  Judith's  letter  was  again  referred 
to,  and  caused  various  comments  and  reflec- 
tions. 

The  only  one  of  the  party,  however,  who  ex- 
pressed either  surprise  or  displeasure  at  the  new 
turn  of  affairs  was  Mr.  Milltrum.  And  he,  as 
the  conversation  proceeded,  warmed  up  to  the 
point  of  plain,  unvarnished  anger. 

"  When  people  make  plans  in  which  the  com- 
fort and  convenience  of  their  friends  are  involved, 
they  should  at  least  try  to  carry  them  out.  We 
know,  of  course,  that  Paul  had  to  leave  New  York 
sooner  than  he  intended.  And  we  also  know  that 
our  trip  was  a  hurried  affair,  but  under  the  cir- 
cumstances what  else  could  we  do?  It  isn't  every 
day  that  England  floats  a  loan,  and  it  isn't  every 
firm  that  is  cabled  from  Downing  Street.  But 
Judith  promised  to  sail  early  in  June,  on  the  same 
steamer  with  the  Hortons,  who  were  coming 
direct  to  Paris.  Now  everything  is  turned  topsy- 


288        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

turvy.  This  means,  I  suppose,  a  new  programme 
from  top  to  bottom." 

"  Not  at  all,"  Paul  answered,  quietly.  "  I  see 
no  reason  whatever  for  any  change  in  our 
plans." 

"  You  don't  ?  "  Mr.  Milltrum  said,  excitedly. 

"  No ;  why  should  there  be  ?  Judith  has  secured 
very  desirable  accommodations  at  Newport.  You 
remember  the  Llandoff  Cottage,  Peggy,  which 
stands  well  up  on  the  Bluffs  and  has  a  superb 
water  view?  With  Mrs.  Helmsley  and  her  other 
friends  there  she  is  likely  to  have  a  most  enjoy- 
able season."  There  was  not  the  faintest  trace 
of  anger  or  disappointment  in  Paul's  voice.  Nor 
was  either  manifest  on  his  face.  He  discussed 
the  matter  as  calmly  as  he  would  a  business  propo- 
sition in  his  office.  If  Judith  elected  to  spend  her 
summer  in  Newport,  preferring  that  to  a  trip 
through  Switzerland,  surely  she  had  the  right  of 
choice.  And  now  that  her  decision  was  made, 
what  need  to  treat  it  as  an  unsettled  question  ? 

But  Mr.  Milltrum  was  not  so  philosophic. 
Hence  he  argued  at  considerable  length,  and  more 
than  once  felt  like  rating  Paul  for  allowing  Judith 
such  unbounded  liberty. 

At  this  suggestion  Paul  merely  smiled,  and  his 
smile  was  so  frank,  and  so  free  from  everything 
of  bitterness,  that  Mr.  Milltrum  was  forced  to 
smile  in  return.  This  ended  the  discussion,  at 
least  so  far  as  Paul  was  concerned,  though  it 


THE    AMERICAN    CHAPEL          289 

must  be  admitted  that  the  Milltrums  talked  it  over 
among  themselves. 

"  I  would  like  to  give  Judith  a  good  shaking," 
Maud  said,  a  few  hours  later,  when  in  the  quiet 
of  her  sister's  room. 

"  It  wouldn't  do  any  good,"  Miss  Milltrum  re- 
plied. 

"  It  would  do  me  good,"  Maud  remarked,  with 
a  touch  of  spitefulness  in  her  voice. 

"  In  that  case  the  proceeding  would  have  my 
approval,"  Miss  Milltrum  responded,  smilingly. 

"  But  now,  Peggy,  in  all  seriousness,  isn't  this 
last  whim  of  Judith's  enough  to  provoke  a 
saint?" 

"  I  am  not  a  saint,  Maud,  so  I  can't  well  answer 
your  question." 

"  No,  I  never  heard  of  a  Saint  Peggy,  though 
I  believe  there  was  once  a  very  pious  Margaret, 
but  that  was  before  your  time.  But  about  Judith, 
I  have  a  great  notion  to  write  and  give  her  a 
piece  of  my  mind." 

"  Don't.  Your  mind  can't  afford  to  give  itself 
away  so  generously.  Besides,  Judith  wouldn't 
thank  you." 

"  You  are  just  as  indifferent  as  Paul.  He 
doesn't  seem  to  care  what  Judith  does  or  where 
she  goes." 

"  Now,  my  dear,  we  have  talked  this  all  over 
scores  of  times.  And  we  know  perfectly  how 
matters  stand.  We  both  felt  at  the  time  that  Paul's 


290        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

marriage  was  a  mistake.  Of  course,  we  couldn't 
tell  him  so  then,  and  it  would  be  cruel  to  tell  him 
now.  He  married  Judith  simply  because  of  a  fool- 
ish sense  of  obligation  to  Uncle  Lewis.  That  was 
wrong,  very  wrong,  as  I  look  at  things.  But 
Paul  has  such  chivalrous  notions,  and  feels  so 
keenly  all  that  Uncle  Lewis  has  done  for  him, 
that  to  marry  Judith  seemed  to  him  the  right  thing 
to  do.  He  has  never  pretended  to  love  Judith 
as  a  husband  is  supposed  to  love  his  wife.  And, 
for  that  matter,  she  has  made  no  pretence  of  lov- 
ing him.  If  'they  are  content,  why  should  we 
trouble  ourselves?  The  less  we  meddle  in  their 
affairs  the  better." 

"  But  why  doesn't  she  love  him,  and  why 
doesn't  she  try  to  make  him  love  her?  If  I  had 
met  a  man  like  Paul  Bedford  twenty  years  ago, 
and  he  had  chosen  me  for  his  wrife,  I  would  have 
idolized  him,  worshipped  him,  never  willingly 
have  allowed  him  out  of  my  sight,  and  compelled 
him  to  love  me  in  return." 

"  Yes,  but  Maud  Milltrum  and  Judith  Carreau 
are  of  entirely  different  blood.  Judith  has  a  queer 
strain  in  her.  Remember  how  her  mother  treated 
Uncle  Lewis.  And  then  think  of  her  father.  I 
have  always  been  sorry  that  Uncle  Lewis  became 
her  guardian.  It  was  more  romantic  than  wise. 
And  what  could  we  do  but  give  her  a  home,  when 
Uncle  Lewis  so  urgently  requested  it?  Only  for 
uncle's  guardianship  Judith  might  never  have 


THE    AMERICAN    CHAPEL         291 

met  Paul,  but  I  don't  see  how  we  can  mend 
matters  now." 

Miss  Milltrum  sighed  as  she  finished  speaking, 
and  there  was  a  look  of  sadness  on  her  face.  She 
sincerely  pitied  Paul,  and  at  heart  disliked  Judith. 

Often  she  found  herself  wondering  what  the 
outcome  would  be. 

"  Of  course  we  can't  do  anything,  Peggy. 
And  that  is  the  hard  part  of  it.  But  it  is  a  shame 
that  Paul's  life  should  be  spoiled  in  this  way. 
True,  he  never  says  anything,  and  one  might  live 
under  his  roof  for  years  without  suspecting  any 
trouble,  but  we  know  that  he  must  feel  Judith's 
utter  indifference." 

"  Have  you  seen  the  Holbrooks  ?  "  Miss  Mill- 
trum asked,  abruptly,  anxious  to  change  the  con- 
versation. 

"  No ;  when  did  they  reach  Paris  ?  I  thought 
they  intended  remaining  in  London." 

"  So  they  did,  but  Mrs.  Holbrook  was  advised 
to  try  the  Swiss  air.  They  are  going  to  Inter- 
laken." 

"  Then  we  are  likely  to  meet  them  there." 

"Yes;  they  have  engaged  rooms  at  the  Vic- 
toria, and  expect  to  stay  through  July  and  Au- 
gust." 

"Did  you  see  Mrs.  Holbrook?  How  is  she 
looking?  It  is  a  wonder  she  didn't  write  to  us, 
for  I  told  her  in  my  last  letter  we  were  going  to 
Interlaken." 


292        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  I  met  Mrs.  Holbrook  at  Saint  Roch  this 
morning.  She  is  looking  better  than  when  we 
left  New  York.  She  intended  writing  you,  but 
was  not  certain  of  her  plans." 

"  Where  are  they  staying  ?  " 

"  At  the  Binda.  I  told  her  we  would  try  and 
call  to-morrow." 

"  You  didn't  see  Miriam  ?  " 

"  No ;  Mrs.  Holbrook  said  she  had  gone  to  the 
American  Chapel  on  the  Rue  de  Berri." 

"  Where  you  should  have  gone,  Peggy." 

"  Where  you  "should  have  gone,  Maud." 

Then  they  smiled  pleasantly  at  each  other,  after 
which  Maud  went  to  her  room. 


II. 

THE  HOLBROOKS 

_L  HE  Milltrums  did  not  reach  Interlaken  until 
late  in  July,  for  they  travelled  leisurely,  and  not 
after  the  fashion  of  the  modern  tourist.  Paul 
Bedford,  having  been  summoned  to  London, 
where  he  was  detained  several  days,  was  not  with 
the  party  when  it  arrived  at  the  Victoria  Hotel. 
Mrs.  Holbrook,  however,  had  been  advised  con- 
cerning the  Milltrum  plans,  and  gave  the  new 
arrivals  a  most  cordial  welcome.  She  had  also 
made  thoughtful  provision  for  their  comfort,  an 
arrangement  which  they  appreciated  on  going  to 
their  rooms.  Where  people  are  not  stinted  as  to 
money,  and  are  likely  to  remain  several  weeks, 
it  is  comparatively  easy  to  secure  both  favors  and 
privileges  from  hotel  managers.  Hence  the  Mill- 
trums were  domiciled  in  one  of  the  most  desirable 
suites  in  the  Victoria,  just  across  the  hall  and  on 
the  same  floor  with  the  Holbrooks. 

In  the  days  of  their  early  girlhood,  Marea  Eller- 
ton,  as  she  was  then  called,  and  Marjorie  Mill- 
trum lived  on  the  same  street,  not  far  from  Wash- 
293 


294        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

ington  Square,  a  fashionable  region  at  that  time. 
Though  outwardly  with  little  in  common,  the 
girls  became  strongly  attached  to  each  other,  and 
their  friendship  deepened  as  they  grew  older. 
Marea  was  impressionable,  sensitive,  disposed 
somewhat  to  visions  and  day-dreams,  and,  under 
favorable  conditions,  might  have  developed  into 
an  artist  or  a  poet.  But  a  certain  handsome  young 
doctor  appeared  on  the  scene,  when  immediately 
Marea's  dreams  took  another  form,  and  her 
visions  seemed  to  have  a  veritable  incarnation. 
And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  one  bright  spring 
morning  Doctor  Holbrook  received  his  dainty  and 
really  beautiful  bride  at  the  hands  of  her  father, 
and  the  Gothamites,  who  were  bidden  to  the  mar- 
riage-feast, declared  the  match  a  most  suitable 
one  in  every  way.  Though  far  from  being  depend- 
ent on  his  profession,  Doctor  Holbrook  entered 
into  it  with  rare  enthusiasm,  and  ere  long  estab- 
lished for  himself  an  enviable  reputation. 

But  a  man,  however  vigorous,  cannot  attend 
patients  all  day  and  read  laboriously  half  of  the 
night.  There  are  limits  and  boundaries  beyond 
which  no  one  can  pass  with  impunity.  But  Doctor 
Holbrook  would  not  be  warned.  He  saw  a  most 
valuable  discovery  within  reaching  distance.  To 
gain  that  prize  he  was  prepared  to  sacrifice  well- 
nigh  everything.  For  this  meant  far  more  than 
either  fame  or  fortune.  Not  that  he  lightly  held 
either,  but  to  relieve  pain,  to  give  men  a  fighting 


THE    HOLBROOKS  295 

chance  for  life,  to  remove  from  many  homes  the 
shadow  of  death,  suggested  infinitely  more  to 
Doctor  Holbrook  than  the  mere  possession  of 
wealth.  One  night  the  tired  brain  gave  way. 
The  weary  body  collapsed,  and,  when  the  morning 
came,  Mrs.  Holbrook  was  a  widow.  Miriam,  then 
about  fourteen  years  of  age,  though  fully  sensible 
of  the  irreparable  loss  which  had  befallen  her, 
for  her  love  for  her  father  was  almost  an  idol- 
atry, realized  that  from  henceforth  she  must  be 
her  mother's  guardian  and  protector.  Instead  of 
the  mother  comforting  the  child,  it  was  the  child 
who  comforted  the  mother.  People  said  it  was 
very  strange,  yet  no  one  was  surprised.  For 
Miriam  wras  unlike  any  other  child  they  had  ever 
known.  Perhaps  it  was  the  result  of  her  father's 
training,  or,  more  likely,  the  bent  of  her  own 
mind,  but  she  had  always  been  grave,  dignified, 
mature,  and  with  a  wisdom  far  beyond  her  years. 
Soon,  therefore,  Mrs.  Holbrook  learned  to  de- 
pend on  Miriam's  judgment,  and  to  trust  her  in 
matters  rarely  given  to  one  so  young.  Favored 
by  nature  in  many  ways;  inheriting  all  of  her 
mother's  beauty  and  much  of  her  father's  men- 
tality; having  an  ample  fortune  as  well,  she 
seemed  indifferent  to  matrimonial  possibilities, 
and,  when  Paul  Bedford  first  saw  her  in  the 
American  Chapel  on  the  Rue  de  Berri,  she  was 
as  heart-free  as  the  innocent  maiden  of  a  poet's 
dream. 


296        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

To  Mr.  Milltrum  she  took  at  once,  finding  him 
a  delightful  companion,  and  for  the  first  week 
of  his  stay  in  Interlaken  she  chaperoned  him 
everywhere.  One  day  they  would  sail  as  far  as 
Brienz,  stopping  long  enough  to  explore  the  little 
town.  The  next  day  they  went  up  to  the  other 
lake,  landing  at  Thun,  and  making  a  brief  visit; 
another  day  they  took  the  stage  to  Grindelwald, 
where  Mr.  Milltrum  insisted  on  seeing  the  ice 
grotto,  and  doing  other  foolish  things,  for  in 
some  respects  he  was  as  eager  and  as  boyish  as 
when  in  his  teens. 

Every  morning,  soon  after  breakfast,  they 
would  start  off  together,  and  many  an  envious 
glance  was  given  Mr.  Milltrum  by  the  young 
men  in  the  Victoria  Hotel.  And  no  wonder. 
For  a  more  trim,  dainty  young  lady  was  not  then 
in  Interlaken.  Her  touring  costume  was  always 
a  simple  affair,  usually  of  tweed,  and  very  unob- 
trusive, just  the  garb  adapted  for  the  day,  and  for 
the  wearer  as  well.  Then  she  had  the  myste- 
rious grace  of  a  high-born  American  girl,  a  grace 
which  is  so  distinctive  as  to  be  recognized  any- 
where. 

Of  course  they  talked  about  all  sorts  of  things, 
for  Mr.  Milltrum  soon  discovered  that  Miriam 
had  opinions  and  convictions  somewhat  out  of  the 
ordinary. 

One  morning  a  gray,  unsettled  sky  interfered 
with  a  trip  arranged  the  night  before,  so,  rather 


THE    HOLBROOKS  297 

than  go  with  the  others,  foraging  through  bric-a- 
brac  and  curio  shops,  Miss  Holbrook  and  Mr. 
Milltrum  climbed  a  hill  some  little  distance  from 
the  hotel,  where  a  splendid  view  of  the  Jungfrau 
could  be  obtained.  For  some  time  they  watched 
the  mountains  and  sky  battle  with  each  other; 
the  sky  attacking  in  fierce,  whirling  gusts,  fol- 
lowed by  battalions  of  mist  and  cloud  rushing 
madly  from  the  heavens;  the  mountains  sullen 
and  defiant,  then  after  a  time  breaking  through 
the  enswathing  host  and  lifting  themselves 
proudly  into  the  light.  One  moment  the  Jungfrau 
would  be  so  covered  with  thick,  fleecy  folds  that 
not  a  trace  of  it  was  visible;  then  the  next  mo- 
ment its  massive  outline  would  be  revealed  with 
startling  distinctness. 

Turning  from  the  mountain,  where  the  mighty 
conflict  was  raging,  Miss  Holbrook  said : 

"  I  have  a  feeling,  Mr.  Milltrum,  that  I  have 
been  here  before.  So  far  as  my  immediate  life  is 
concerned,  this  is  my  first  visit  to  Interlaken,  yet 
I  am  not  impressed  with  any  special  sense  of 
strangeness.  How  is  it  with  you  ?  " 

"  Brand-new.  Everything  fresh  from  the  mint. 
Never  was  here  before,  never  expect  to  be  here 
again." 

There  were  times  when  as  a  matter-of-fact 
philosopher  Mr.  Milltrum  held  first  place. 

"  But  have  you  never  met  people,  strangers,  I 
mean,  whom  you  were  positive  you  had  met 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

before  ?  You  could  not  place  them,  nor  definitely 
recognize  them,  still  you  felt  as  if  you  had  seen 
them  somewhere.  Perhaps  I  am  not  making 
myself  clear." 

"  What  you  are  saying  is  clear  enough,  but  the 
idea  you  are  working  on  is  somewhat  misty. 
Peggy,  that  is,  my  niece,  Miss  Milltrum,  has  a 
crony  who  insists  that  this  is  her  second  life  in 
this  world,  but  what  her  first  life  was  she  doesn't 
say.  My  education,  I  am  afraid,  has  been  sadly 
neglected,  Miss  Holbrook,  despite  the  fact  that 
both  Peggy  and  Maud  have  so  kindly  taken  me 
in  hand." 

"  Well,  let  me  give  you  an  illustration  of  what 
I  mean.  A  few  Sundays  since  I  was  in  the 
American  Chapel  in  Paris,  and  there  I  saw  a  tall, 
handsome  man,  of  perhaps  thirty  or  thirty-five 
years  of  age.  He  sat  on  the  same  side  not  far 
from  the  door,  and  in  going  out  I  passed 
within  touching  distance  of  him.  Now,  I  don't 
know  his  name.  To  my  certain  knowledge  I 
never  saw  him  before.  And  yet,  when  I  looked 
at  him,  there  was  something  in  me  which  insisted 
on  recognizing  him,  and,  now  don't  laugh,  I  al- 
most spoke  to  him  when  passing  his  pew." 

"  There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  that.  The 
stranger  reminded  you  of  some  one  whom  you 
could  not  at  that  moment  recall.  You  know 
nearly  every  person  we  meet  reminds  us  of  some 
other  person,  sometimes  because  of  a  resemblance 


THE    HOLBROOKS  299 

in  feature,  or  more  frequently  through  some  trick 
of  manner  or  bearing." 

"  On  general  principles,  Mr.  Milltrum,  you 
are  right,  but  in  this  case  the  general  principles 
did  not  avail.  The  recognition  was  not  outward. 
There  was  nothing  familiar  in  the  stranger's  ap- 
pearance. It  was  not  a  question  of  height,  or  size, 
or  feature.  I  have  no  relative  or  friend  who  bears 
the  slightest  resemblance  to  the  person  of  whom 
I  am  now  speaking.  And  yet  I  am  absolutely 
certain  that  I  have  met  him  somewhere,  and  not 
only  met  him,  but  have  known  him  intimately." 

For  once  the  shrewd,  hard-headed  Westerner, 
whose  life  was  usually  so  definite  and  practical, 
seemed  at  a  loss  what  to  say.  He  could  tell  by 
Miss  Holbrook's  serious  air  that  she  was  not  ro- 
mancing or  indulging  in  the  dreams  of  a  love- 
lorn maiden.  She  spoke  of  the  meeting  in  the 
American  Chapel  so  calmly,  yet  with  such  evident 
conviction,  that  he  could  not  reply  lightly,  nor 
indulge  in  any  pleasantry  at  her  expense.  There 
was  that  on  her  face  which  forbade  his  treating 
the  affair  as  a  jest.  For  she  looked  troubled.  Her 
eyes,  generally  so  bright,  were  clouded,  and  there 
was  an  anxious  droop  about  her  mouth,  something 
very  unusual  with  her.  He  did  not,  therefore, 
attempt  any  reply,  but  sat  seemingly  absorbed  in 
the  battle  between  mountain  and  sky. 

After  a  few  moments'  silence,  Miss  Holbrook 
said,  speaking  even  more  seriously  than  before : 


300        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  The  stranger  recognized  me.  I  could  see 
it  in  his  face,  and,  when  I  was  detained  by  some 
people  in  the  aisle,  and  had  to  stand  at  his  pew 
until  they  moved  on,  we  looked  at  each  other  in 
amazement.  It  was,  indeed,  Mr.  Milltrum,  a 
most  singular  experience.  And  ever  since,  when 
I  have  thought  of  it,  which  has  been  very  often, 
I  assure  you,  I  have  wondered  what  it  all  meant." 

Again  Mr.  Milltrum  turned  his  eyes  to  the 
mountains,  and  watched,  with  deepening  interest, 
the  struggle  which  every  moment  was  becoming 
more  fierce  and'absorbing.  Finally  he  said,  with 
a  touch  of  lightness : 

"  Evidently  the  tall,  handsome  stranger  made 
an  impression  on  you.  Tall,  handsome  men  have 
advantages  over  others  less  favored." 

Then  he  added,  whimsically :  "  Now  I  might 
go  to  the  American  Chapel  a  score  of  times  with- 
out arousing  any  special  interest." 

Miss  Holbrook  smiled,  for  Mr.  Milltrum's 
humor  was  never  biting  or  sarcastic. 

"  You  would  recognize  the  hero  of  your  ad- 
venture ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Anywhere  and  instantly,"  she  answered. 

"  We  may  run  across  him  on  some  of  our  trips," 
he  suggested. 

"  I  earnestly  hope  so,"  she  replied. 

"  The  symptoms  are  serious,"  he  said,  gravely. 

Miss  Holbrook  laughed  pleasantly. 

By  this  time  the  clouds  and  mists  had  suffered 


THE    HOLBROOKS  301 

an  overwhelming  defeat,  for  the  sun,  with  a 
myriad  arrows  of  light,  had  come  to  the  relief 
of  the  defiant  mountains,  that  now  lifted  their 
heads  gratefully  into  the  shining  sky,  their  ice- 
crowned  summits  blazing  with  diadems  of  jewels 
and  gold. 

When  they  returned  to  the  hotel,  Mr.  Milltrum 
was  given  a  telegram,  which  had  come  about  an 
hour  before. 

"  Will  reach  Interlaken  this  evening,  on  train 
arriving  at  six.  PAUL." 

Naturally,  the  Holbrooks  were  interested  in  the 
coming  of  Paul  Bedford,  for  both  Miss  Milltrum 
and  Maud  had  spoken  of  him  so  frequently  as  to 
arouse  a  degree  of  curiosity.  Moreover,  several 
trips  had  been  postponed  on  his  account,  for  the 
Misses  Milltrum  were  good  walkers,  and  had 
promised  themselves  two  or  three  expeditions 
during  his  stay.  Indeed,  their  ambitions  had 
taken  on  such  proportions  that  Mr.  Milltrum 
vigorously  protested,  suggestively  intimating  that 
they  had  outgrown  alpenstocks,  and  had  reached 
the  age  when  sedan-chairs  were  more  suited  to 
their  needs.  This  rather  nettled  Miss  Milltrum, 
consequently  she  resolved  that  when  Paul  came 
extensive  tours  would  be  made  and  the  whole 
region  explored  in  the  most  vigorous  fashion. 

When  Paul  entered  the  dining-room  that  eve- 


302        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

ning  with  Miss  Milltrum,  the  Holbrooks  were 
already  seated  at  their  table  in  a  little  nook  near 
a  front  window,  and  Mrs.  Holbrook  quietly  re- 
marked to  her  daughter: 

"  I  presume  that  is  Mr.  Bedford,  who  is  going 
with  the  Milltrum  party  to  their  table.  You  can 
see  him  in  a  moment,  Miriam,  without  moving 
your  head.  He  is,  as  far  as  looks  go,  all  they 
have  said." 

Being  a  widow  of  recognized  standing  and  with 
some  fifty  years  to  her  credit,  Mrs.  Holbrook 
could  look  at  the  newcomer  without  embarrass- 
ment, whereas  her  daughter  had  to  wait  until  the 
Milltrums  crossed  over  to  the  table  reserved 
for  them.  Then  a  startled  look  came  upon 
Miriam's  face.  Her  eyes  filled  with  wonder.  She 
watched  the  little  group  like  one  in  a  trance. 
She  looked  again  and  again,  for  she  saw,  not  the 
Milltrums,  but  the  stranger  whose  appearance  had 
so  affected  her  in  the  American  Chapel,  and  of 
whom  she  had  been  speaking  only  that  morning! 
Fortunately,  the  tables  were  some  little  distance 
apart,  and  in  the  seating  Paul  was  placed  with 
his  back  to  the  Holbrook  corner;  Miriam's  agi- 
tation, therefore,  was  unnoticed,  save  by  her 
mother,  who  looked  at  her  anxiously  and  asked 
if  anything  was  the  matter. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  been  overdoing  these  last  few 
days,"  Miss  Holbrook  managed  to  say.  "  The 
walk  this  morning  was  longer  and  more  fatigu- 


THE    HOLBROOKS  303 

ing  than  I  bargained  for.  Besides,  it  is  hot 
here." 

"  Just  what  I  was  afraid  of,  Miriam.  You 
must  be  more  careful.  I  hope,  now  that  Mr.  Bed- 
ford is  here,  you  will  not  fall  in  with  any  of  Miss 
Milltrum's  excursion  notions.  People  can  only 
do  so  much  and  no  more.  Are  you  better,  dear  ?  " 

"  It  was  just  a  moment's  giddiness,  mamma, 
and  will  be  gone  directly.  Don't  look  so  anxious, 
or  every  one  in  the  dining-room  will  think  some- 
thing is  wrong.  I  am  really  better,  indeed  I  am." 

Miriam  smiled  so  bravely,  and  spoke  so  ear- 
nestly, that  Mrs.  Holbrook  resumed  her  inter- 
rupted dinner  without  any  misgivings. 

Watching  her  opportunity,  Miriam  slipped  out 
of  the  dining-room  at  the  first  convenient  moment, 
making  some  excuse  which  Mrs.  Holbrook  readily 
accepted.  On  going  to  her  room,  she  sat  down 
in  a  chair  near  an  open  window,  very  much  per- 
plexed, and  distressed  as  well.  Keenly  she  re- 
membered her  conversation  of  the  morning,  and 
the  frankness  with  which  she  had  spoken  to  Mr. 
Milltrum.  Most  vividly  she  recalled  her  eager 
wish  to  meet  the  stranger  she  had  described  to 
him,  and  also  her  reference  to  the  influence  he 
had  exerted,  not  only  at  their  time  of  meeting,  but 
ever  since.  And  now  to  think  that  the  stranger 
was  none  other  than  Mr.  Bedford,  whom  she 
must  meet  within  an  hour,  and  in  whose  presence 
much  of  her  life  would  be  spent  for  the  next  few 


604        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

weeks!  She  did  not  imagine  for  an  instant  that 
Mr.  Milltrum  would  refer  in  the  most  remote 
way  to  their  conversation,  still  the  mere  fact  of 
her  having  spoken  to  him  embarrassed  her  ex- 
ceedingly. 

As  the  Swiss  twilights  in  July  are  very  long, 
Miss  Holbrook  knew  it  would  be  useless  to  at- 
tempt any  postponement  of  her  meeting  with  Mr. 
Bedford  until  dark;  besides,  there  were  certain 
plans  already  formed  for  the  evening  by  the  Mill- 
trums,  in  which  she  was  included.  So,  nerving 
herself  for  the  ordeal,  she  went  down-stairs,  and, 
at  the  end  of  the  hotel  veranda,  she  saw  Miss 
Milltrum  and  Mr.  Bedford  talking  earnestly. 
Something  caused  Paul  to  look  in  her  direction, 
when,  the  moment  he  saw  her,  he  started  so  vio- 
lently that  Miss  Milltrum  regarded  him  with 
surprise.  In  her  white  dinner-gown,  with  her 
cheeks  almost  deathly  pale,  her  eyes  like  stars  in 
a  winter  night,  her  dark  hair  forming  an  express- 
ive background,  she  seemed  to  Paul  the  Miriam 
of  other  days,  and,  when  she  moved  toward  him, 
his  face  became  almost  ghastly,  and  his  eyes 
started  with  amazement. 

Not  seeing  her  mother  where  she  usually  sat, 
Miss  Holbrook  went  down  the  veranda  steps  lead- 
ing to  a  little  garden,  much  frequented  in  the 
evening  by  guests  of  the  hotel.  As  she  disap- 
peared, Paul  exclaimed,  in  a  hoarse  whisper : 

F°r  God's  sake  tell  me  who  that 


THE    HOLBROOKS  305 

young  lady  is!  You  saw  her  as  she  went  by? 
Great  heavens,  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

In  his  excitement  he  took  Miss  Milltrum  by 
both  hands  and  led  her  to  the  veranda  steps,  where 
they  could  see  Miss  Holbrook  speaking  to  her 
mother. 

"  That  is  Miss  Holbrook ;  she  is  staying  here 
with  her  mother.  They  are  from  New  York." 

Miss  Milltrum's  speech  was  almost  as  jerky  and 
disconnected  as  Paul's,  for  he  fairly  took  her 
breath  away  by  his  vehemence. 

"  Miss  Holbrook !  "  he  repeated,  in  a  dazed 
way.  "  I  thought  she  was  —  was  some  one  else." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Holbrook,  whose  mother  was  my 
school  crony  before  you  were  born.  Miriam 
is  —  " 

"  Miriam!    Is  her  name  Miriam?  " 

The  peculiar  expression  on  Paul's  face  as  he 
asked  this  question,  and  the  intensity  with  which 
he  waited  for  her  reply,  were  very  evident  to  Miss 
Milltrum. 

"  Yes,  her  name  is  Miriam,  and  she  is  a  noble 
girl,  whose  devotion  to  her  widowed  mother  is 
simply  beautiful.  Uncle  Lewis  thinks  she  is  the 
sum  of  all  perfections." 

Later  in  the  evening  they  were  introduced,  Miss 
Milltrum  doing  the  honors,  nevertheless  it  was 
an  embarrassing  moment  to  both  Miss  Holbrook 
and  Paul. 

Some  notable  event  of  Swiss  history  was  to  be 


306        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

celebrated  that  evening  at  the  Kursaal,  ending 
with  a  firework  display  of  unusual  brilliance. 
Mr.  Milltrum  had  secured  seats  for  the  party, 
and,  at  the  proper  time,  they  started  off,  accom- 
panied by  several  other  Americans  who  were 
staying  at  the  Victoria.  Mrs.  Holbrook,  being 
something  of  an  invalid,  asked  to  be  excused,  and 
went  to  her  room,  a  cool  wind  beginning  to 
blow  from  the  mountains.  This  detained  Miss 
Holbrook  for  some  minutes,  as  she  invariably 
assisted  her  mother  in  her  preparations  for  the 
night. 

"  You  wait  for  Miss  Holbrook,  Paul.  She 
knows  the  way,  and  can  pilot  you.  Tell  her  our 
seats  are  in  the  same  section  as  those  we  had  last 
week.  Come  along,  Peggy.  Maud,  take  my  other 
arm.  Don't  be  late,  Paul,  the  music  is  worth 
hearing."  With  these  instructions  and  commands, 
Mr.  Milltrum  departed. 

On  their  way  to  the  Kursaal,  Paul  said,  quietly : 
"  We  have  met  before,  Miss  Holbrook.  Do  you 
remember  where  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  saw  you  in  the  American  Chapel  about 
a  month  ago,"  Miss  Holbrook  answered. 

"Was  that  our  first  time  of  meeting?"  Paul 
asked,  looking  at  her  earnestly. 

"  The  first  of  which  I  have  any  distinct  recol- 
lections," Miss  Holbrook  replied,  speaking  almost 
in  a  whisper. 

"  Excuse  me ;  it  will  doubtless  seem  a  strange 


THE    HOLBROOKS  307 

thing  for  me  to  say,  particularly  as  I  remember 
that  we  were  introduced  not  more  than  an  hour 
ago,  but  somehow  I  feel  that  we  are  not  meeting 
as  strangers.  When  or  how  or  under  what  cir- 
cumstances we  have  met  I  cannot  say,  yet  that 
we  have  met  somewhere  I  am  as  positive  as  that 
we  are  now  on  our  way  to  the  Kursaal." 

There  was  a  certain  quality  in  Paul's  voice 
which  could  not  be  mistaken.  He  spoke  with 
that  accent  of  conviction  which  rarely  fails  to 
make  itself  impressive.  But  what  made  his  words 
still  more  effective  was  the  fact  that  they  were 
almost  an  echo  of  what  Miss  Holbrook  had  said 
only  that  morning.  She  therefore  looked  at  him 
in  a  nervous,  startled  way,  almost  ready  to  believe, 
though  she  instantly  put  it  away  as  improbable, 
that  Mr.  Milltrum  had  violated  her  confidence. 
But,  womanlike,  she  soon  rallied,  and,  in  a  tone 
somewhat  careless,  she  remarked : 

"  Resemblances  and  coincidences  give  to  life 
much  of  its  charm.  And  variety  as  well.  We 
have,  therefore,  cause  to  be  grateful  for  them.  I 
am,  at  any  rate." 

Paul  was  disappointed  at  Miss  Holbrook's  re- 
ply. It  was  not  what  he  expected.  He  was  so 
serious  that  he  was  not  prepared  for  any  light- 
ness or  trifling.  Ever  since  that  day  in  Paris  he 
had  been  troubled  and  anxious.  He  went  to  the 
American  Chapel  the  following  Sunday,  but  the 
one  of  all  others  he  was  so  anxious  to  see  failed 


308        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

to  appear.  He  made  such  inquiries  as  were  pos- 
sible through  the  American  colony,  but  all  in  vain. 
And  now,  in  the  heart  of  Switzerland,  in  the 
most  unexpected  way,  he  discovers  the  object  of 
his  search.  But  of  what  avail?  Only  to  learn 
that  she  is  a  Miss  Holbrook,  of  New  York,  whose 
mother  was  a  schoolmate  of  Miss  Milltrum,  and 
whose  life  in  no  way  was  related  to  his! 

Chatting  of  other  matters,  they  soon  reached 
the  Kursaal,  and  joined  the  Milltrum  party. 


III. 

THE  GEMMI  PASS 


M 


ISS  MILLTRUM'S  programme  was  car- 
ried out  to  the  letter.  Despite  the  good-natured 
protests  of  Mr.  Milltrum,  excursions  and  tramping 
tours  were  the  order  of  the  day,  only  unpleasant 
weather  causing  any  interruption.  Sometimes  the 
plans  of  the  Misses  Milltrum  involved  remaining 
overnight  in  some  chalet  or  primitive  hotel,  for 
there  are  exquisite  little  nooks  and  corners  in 
Switzerland  where  tourists  must  accept  very  sim- 
ple fare,  and  accommodations  anything  but  lux- 
urious. But  the  Milltrum  party  gave  small  heed 
to  these  matters.  Trifling  inconveniences  were 
of  little  moment  compared  with  the  enjoyment 
which  they  made  possible.  What  odds  if  some- 
times the  floors  were  without  either  rug  or  carpet, 
or  the  dining-table  guiltless  of  a  cloth?  What 
harm  if  the  dinner  did  not  suggest  Sherry's  on 
Fifth  Avenue,  or  Chatham's  on  the  Rue  de  la 
Paix?  Did  not  the  clear,  crisp,  marvellously 
healthful  air  more  than  atone  for  the  lack  of  cer- 
309 


310        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

tain  savory  dishes,  or  the  absence  of  familiar 
comforts  ? 

So  they  all  made  much  of  their  outings,  laugh- 
ing heartily  at  sundry  mishaps  and  adventures. 
Miss  Holbrook  was  always  included  in  the  party, 
her  mother's  health  having  so  far  improved  as  to 
admit  of  Miriam's  absence  without  inconvenience. 
Indeed,  Miss  Holbrook  was  almost  an  essential, 
for  there  were  times  when  Paul's  French  limped 
very  badly,  and  his  endeavors  to  express  himself 
elicited  only  an  unmeaning  smile  from  the  sad- 
faced  waiter,  or  hotel  landlord.  At  such  times, 
and  they  were  of  frequent  occurrence,  Miss  Hol- 
brook would  come  to  Paul's  relief,  when  the 
waiter  would  bow  gratefully,  the  landlord  beam 
benignantly,  and  happiness  once  more  diffuse  itself 
upon  the  company.  This  led  Paul  and  Miss  Hol- 
brook into  frequent  conversations,  and,  in  time,  he 
nearly  always  consulted  her  when  making  arrange- 
ments for  the  party.  As  a  usual  thing,  Mr.  Mill- 
trum  went  with  the  "  gadders,"  as  he  frequently 
termed  them,  and,  while  he  grumbled  occasionally 
in  his  quaint,  humorous  way,  he  enjoyed  himself 
immensely.  He  was  not  a  little  vain  of  his  ap- 
pearance in  a  golfing  suit,  and  more  than  once 
was  taken  for  an  English  duke,  his  face  and 
general  bearing  favoring  the  deception. 

"  Dukes  have  been  known  to  be  good,  uncle, 
—  at  least,  there  is  a  tradition  to  that  effect,  — 
but  a  handsome  one  has  yet  to  be  born,"  Maud 


THE    GEMMI    PASS  311 

said,  when  the  landlord  retired  who  had  favored 
Mr.  Milltrum  with  this  patent  of  high  nobility. 

"  Maud,  I  will  disinherit  you.  I  will  leave  my 
estates  and  ducal  properties  to  the  fortunate  men 
who  have  been  refused  your  hand  in  marriage. 
Am  I  not,  Miss  Holbrook,  a  handsome  man  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly,  Mr.  Milltrum.  No  seriously 
disposed  person  could  question  it." 

"  And  Peggy,  who  has  known  me  time  out  of 
mind,  will  bear  testimony  to  my  goodness." 

"  There  are  days,  Uncle  Lewis,  when  I  have 
a  conscience;  this  is  one  of  them.  So  please 
excuse  me." 

"  Peg§y  Milltrum !  And  after  all  that  I  have 
done  to  assist  you  on  your  man-hunting  expedi- 
tions! O  gratitude,  where  art  thou?" 

"  It  was  the  golfing-suit  that  did  the  business," 
Paul  remarked.  "  That  tumultuous  tweed !  That 
great  organ  open  diapason  pattern!  Those  Heb- 
ridean  stockings  of  deep  and  manifold  hue !  The 
landlord  was  simply  awed  by  such  array." 

"Envy,  Paul,  is  the  sure  sign  of  a  small  nature. 
Therefore,  I  am  not  surprised  by  your  comments." 

Of  course  that  was  not  the  end  of  it,  but  Mr. 
Milltrum  was  always  able  to  return  a  Roland 
for  an  Oliver.  One  day,  though,  he  squared  ac- 
counts with  Paul,  who,  being  unusually  generous 
with  the  landlord  of  a  little  wayside  hotel,  was 
thanked  most  profusely  and  addressed  as  "  Your 
Highness."  Mr.  Milltrum,  who  was  standing 


312        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

near  by,  could  hardly  restrain  himself.  And  the 
look  he  gave  Miss  Holbrook,  who  had  gone  with 
Paul  to  act  as  interpreter,  was  distressingly  comic. 
But,  when  he  got  away  from  the  hotel,  he  gave 
a  whoop  that  would  have  startled  a  New  York 
newsboy. 

"  Peggy !  Maud !  Behold  his  Highness !  "  he 
shouted,  as  Paul  came  up  the  road.  Then  he 
explained,  and  the  explanation  lost  nothing  by 
his  giving  it,  for  he  embellished  with  a  genius 
worthy  of  a  press  agent. 

"  We  surely  are  a  distinguished  party,"  Maud 
remarked.  "  I  never  expected  that  a  simple 
American  girl  would  be  permitted  to  travel  with 
a  prince  of  the  blood,  and  a  duke  of  the  realm. 
What  are  your  Grace's  commands  for  this  after- 
noon? And  has  your  Highness  any  special 
wish?" 

So  they  chaffed  and  laughed,  enjoying  their 
holiday  with  all  the  zest  imaginable,  for,  as  Mr. 
Milltrum  remarked,  "  The  only  way  to  get  any 
fun  out  of  life  is  to  put  some  fun  into  it." 

Thus  the  weeks  went  by,  and  the  time  was 
rapidly  approaching  when  Paul  Bedford  would 
be  compelled  to  leave  for  London,  special  matters 
requiring  his  presence  there.  But  Miss  Milltrum 
insisted  that,  before  he  left,  the  party  must  cross 
the  Gemmi  Pass,  and  get  a  glimpse  of  the  Rhone 
valley.  To  this,  Mr.  Milltrum  demurred.  So 
did  Mrs.  Holbrook.  Various  reasons  were  given 


THE    GEMMI    PASS  313 

and  objections  stated.  Paul  sat  a  silent  but 
deeply  interested  listener,  while  the  discussion 
went  on.  Once  Miss  Milltrum  appealed  to  him, 
but  he  only  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"  You  can't  do  it  in  two  days,"  Mr.  Milltrum 
said,  emphatically.  "  I  have  looked  up  the  maps 
and  guide-books.  I  don't  know,  Peggy,  what  put 
such  a  notion  into  your  head." 

"  Why,  uncle,  it  is  a  far  easier  trip  than  you 
imagine!  We  will  sail  to  Thun,  have  carriages 
to  Kandersteg,  there  procure  horses  to  the  Gemini, 
where  we  can  remain  all  night,  and  go  down  the 
pass  in  the  morning  before  the  sun  gets  too  high. 
There  is  really  no  trouble  about  it." 

"  Isn't  there  ?  Some  of  these  long-legged  stu- 
dents, who  are  in  training  for  seven  days'  walk- 
ing-matches, might  do  what  you  propose,  but 
for  three  women !  " 

When  Mr.  Milltrum  said  "three  women,"  there 
was  an  inflection  in  his  voice  which  imme- 
diately aroused  both  Maud  and  Miss  Holbrook, 
and  from  that  moment  the  opposition  went  down 
like  corn  before  a  reaping-machine.  And  so  Miss 
Milltrum  prevailed.  Paul  Bedford  had  misgiv- 
ings concerning  the  proposed  trip.  Not  that  he 
dreaded  any  accident,  or  feared  an  inability  to 
carry  out  the  plan.  But  Paul  was  having  trou- 
ble with  himself,  deeper  and  more  serious  trouble 
than  he  had  ever  thought  possible.  He  had  not 
attempted  any  renewal  of  his  first  conversation 


314        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

with  Miss  Holbrook,  and  was  exceedingly  careful 
not  to  give  her  the  slightest  hint  of  his  real  feel- 
ings, but  the  idea  that  she  was  in  some  way  as- 
sociated with  Miriam  Saxby  haunted  him  con- 
tinually. In  her  rippling  laugh,  in  some  quaint 
turn  of  speech,  in  the  shrug  of  her  shoulders,  in 
the  tones  of  her  voice,  he  could  hear  and  see 
the  Miriam  to  whom  he  had  given  the  love  of  his 
young,  eager  heart.  And  every  day  the  re- 
semblance seemed  to  be  more  perfect.  Often 
he  would  look  at  her  when  she  was  walking  with 
Mr.  Milltrum  or  talking  with  Maud,  or  revelling 
in  the  glories  of  some  mountain  view,  and  he 
could  hardly  persuade  himself  that  he  was  not 
back  again  in  Pelham,  and  that  the  last  nine  years 
of  his  life  were  only  a  dream.  A  touch  of  her 
hand  sent  the  blood  leaping  wildly  in  his  veins. 
A  flash  of  her  eye  opened  every  doorway  in  his 
soul.  In  his  heart  she  was  not  Miss  Holbrook, 
but  Miriam,  the  one  who  loved  him  better  than 
life,  and  who  had  gone  down  into  death  with  his 
name  upon  her  lips. 

He  remembered  Judith,  but  he  also  remembered 
that  she  came  to  him  without  words  of  wooing 
and  tenderness,  for  she  well  knew  that  his  heart 
was  buried  in  the  little  cemetery  at  Pelham.  Per- 
haps he  was  weak  in  yielding  to  the  urgent  wish 
of  Mr.  Milltrum,  and  sometimes  he  thought  that 
he  had  failed  in  loyalty  to  the  dead,  but  there  had 
been  no  deception  on  his  part.  At  no  time  had 


THE    GEMMI    PASS  315 

he  even  pretended  to  love  the  imperious,  beauti- 
ful Southerner,  and  she,  it  should  be  said,  had 
been  equally  frank  with  him.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances might  he  not  allow  some  of  the  love 
which  poured  itself  so  lavishly  into  Miriam's 
grave  to  be  given  the  new  Miriam  who  seemed 
to  have  risen  from  that  grave?  For  Miss  Hoi- 
brook  had  not  aroused  any  new  passion  or  desire. 
It  was  simply  the  old  love,  the  love  that  he  had 
given  Miriam,  and  which  had  never  been  with- 
drawn. He  understood  perfectly  the  nature  of 
his  obligations  to  Judith,  and  what  the  world 
demanded  of  him,  but  there  were  times  when  he 
thought  all  of  the  obligations  should  not  rest  on 
him,  and  that  he  had  claims  which  ought  not  to 
be  ignored.  Paul  was  human,  he  was  made  of 
flesh  and  blood;  he  was  no  marble  or  cast-iron 
image  insensible  to  desire  or  feeling.  But  his 
standards  were  high,  his  eyes  unclouded,  and  he 
looked  at  life  in  a  brave,  honorable  way. 

He  had  enjoyed,  immensely  too,  these  weeks 
in  Switzerland.  Not  for  several  years,  perhaps 
never,  had  he  allowed  himself  such  a  generous  re- 
lief from  business.  He  seemed  to  forget  the 
serious  responsibilities  which  usually  rested  on 
him,  and  for  the  time  had  the  spirit  and  light- 
heartedness  of  youth.  But  of  late  the  feeling  had 
gradually  grown  upon  him  that  it  would  be  better 
if  he  went  back  to  London.  This,  perhaps,  was 


316         THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

why  he  refused  to  commit  himself  regarding  the 
proposed  trip  to  the  Gemmi. 

Everything  went  according  to  Miss  Milltrum's 
schedule,  for  she  had  a  way  of  bringing  things 
to  pass.  It  meant  an  early  start  from  the  hotel, 
at  which  Mr.  Milltrum  grumbled  not  a  little,  and 
a  long,  tiresome  day  for  the  whole  party;  never- 
theless they  reached  the  hospice  on  the  summit 
an  hour  or  two  after  sundown. 

It  was  a  rare  evening,  one  only  to  be  had  in 
Switzerland  at  the  close  of  a  superb  August  day. 
But  most  of  tfie  travellers  were  too  weary  to 
enjoy  the  glorious  view  from  the  summit,  or  later 
watch  the  moon  rise  on  the  distant  mountains. 
Miss  Holbrook,  however,  having  more  of  youth 
on  her  side,  and  with  a  stronger  poetic  endow- 
ment than  either  of  the  Misses  Milltrum,  was 
loath  to  house  herself  on  such  a  night  when  the 
heavens  were  so  filled  with  beauty,  and  the  earth 
glowing  as  if  transfigured.  She  sat  near  the  door- 
way of  the  hospice,  revelling  in  the  glory  of  the 
scenes  around  her.  Paul  had  provided  her  with 
extra  wraps,  for  the  air,  though  strangely  still 
for  such  an  altitude,  was  crisp  and  cold,  a  sharp 
contrast  from  that  of  the  valley  below.  He  sat 
on  the  veranda  steps  quietly  smoking,  waiting 
for  the  moon  to  come  up  from  behind  the  moun- 
tains from  which  the  sunlight  had  just  gone. 
Hardly  a  sound  broke  the  mysterious  stillness. 
There  was  no  tinkle  of  distant  cow-bell,  no  horn- 


THE    GEMMI    PASS  317 

blast  echoing  among  the  hills,  no  songs  of  Swiss 
peasantry,  so  weird  yet  so  full  of  melody.  The 
sky  was  almost  cloudless,  and  the  stars  hung  so 
low  that  they  seemed  like  immense  dewdrops 
quivering  in  heavenly  light. 

"  If  you  are  not  too  tired,  Miss  Holbrook,  sup- 
pose we  walk  to  the  top  of  this  hill.  The  view, 
I  think,  is  better  than  here,  and  if  fortune 
smiles  upon  us  we  may  see  the  moon  give  its 
evening  blessing  to  the  Matterhorn." 

Paul's  voice  was  not  much  louder  than  a 
whisper,  for  he  felt  the  spell  of  the  strange 
silence  which  rested  on  the  mountains. 

Without  saying  a  word  Miss  Holbrook  rose 
from  her  chair,  and  after  fastening  her  travelling- 
cloak,  which  she  had  thrown  loosely  over  her 
shoulders  on  coming  to  the  veranda,  came  quietly 
down  the  steps  to  where  Paul  was  standing. 

"  The  light  will  be  better  in  a  few  minutes," 
he  said  in  the  same  low  tone,  "  but  the  walking 
is  rather  uncertain  here.  Please  take  my  arm." 

Silently  she  accepted  the  preferred  arm,  but 
in  doing  so  her  hand  slightly  trembled. 

"  Are  you  cold  ?  "    Paul  asked,  anxiously. 

"  Not  very,  and  I  shall  soon  be  warm  enough 
if  the  walking  is  all  like  this.  Isn't  it  rough?  " 

The  walking  was  difficult,  for  in  the  uncertain 
light  Paul  more  than  once  missed  the  path. 
But  they  managed  to  scramble  along,  and  with- 
out special  mishap  reached  the  top  of  the  hill, 


318        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Here  they  found  a  rather  primitive  pagoda,  or, 
more  properly,  a  sort  of  crow's  nest,  not  an  un- 
common structure  on  many  Swiss  mountains. 

For  some  time  they  sat  in  silence,  as  just  then 
the  moon  was  rising  from  what  seemed  like 
mountains  in  the  sky,  and  the  distant  summits, 
which  only  an  hour  before  had  the  glow  of  a 
divine  fire,  now  glistened  in  silvern  light. 

"Oh,  how  beautiful!"  Miss  Holbrook  mur- 
mured, softly,  constrained  finally  to  speak. 

Paul  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  face,  and  though 
the  light  was  yet  dim,  he  could  see  her  eyes  were 
full  of  tears.  Instantly  he  thought  of  Miriam 
Saxby,  and  the  effect  that  such  a  scene  would 
have  had  upon  her,  for  he  keenly  remembered 
how  strangely  sensitive  and  impressionable  she 
was. 

"  You  are  not  cold  now,  I  hope  ?  "  he  asked, 
going  over  to  Miss  Holbrook,  and  turning  up  the 
wide  collar  of  her  travelling-cloak,  so  that  it 
formed  a  hood. 

"  Thank  you.  I  am  exceedingly  comfortable. 
I  am  so  grateful  that  you  asked  me  to  come  up 
here.  The  view  is  much  finer  every  way  than 
from  the  hospice  veranda." 

As  she  spoke  the  light  of  the  moon  shone  full 
on  her  face,  and  again  Paul  thought  of  Miriam 
Saxby,  for  the  likeness  was  now  more  startling 
than  ever. 

Oh,  how  he  wanted  to  take  her  in  his  arms, 


THE    GEMMI    PASS  319 

to  gather  her  gratefully  to  his  breast,  to  press 
loving  kisses  on  her  quivering  lips;  to  welcome 
her  back  from  the  valley  of  silence,  and  to  pour 
into  her  wondering  ears  the  story  of  his  loneliness 
during  the  terrible  years  of  her  absence!  Never 
did  he  have  such  a  fearful  battle  with  himself. 
Everything  that  he  had  of  will,  of  self-restraint, 
of  self-control,  was  needed  in  that  hour.  One 
moment  of  weakness,  and  he  surely  would  have 
yielded,  for  the  love  of  his  early  manhood  had 
returned,  bringing  with  it  the  unutterable  long- 
ings and  yearnings  of  nine  weary  years. 

"  Miss  Holbrook,"  he  finally  said,  speaking 
with  unnatural  calmness,  and  at  the  same  time 
lighting  a  cigar,  only,  however,  as  a  pretence, 
"  may  I  tell  you  a  little  story,  a  personal  story, 
one  which  in  some  way  relates  to  you  ?  " 

Miss  Holbrook  looked  at  him  wonderingly,  but 
when  she  saw  his  face  immediately  there  rose 
before  her  the  scene  in  the  American  Chapel,  for 
at  that  moment  he  seemed  exactly  as  he  did  then. 
And  she  also  remembered  her  singular  feeling  of 
recognition,  a  feeling  of  which  she  had  after- 
ward spoken  to  Mr.  Milltrum,  and  from  which 
she  could  not  escape.  Though  she  knew  that  Mr. 
Bedford  was  married,  for  the  Misses  Milltrum 
often  referred  to  Judith,  and  though  she  knew 
nothing  whatever  of  the  circumstances  involved  in 
that  marriage,  she  had  the  distinct  impression 
that  in  some  way  her  life  was  related  to  that  of 


320        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Paul  Bedford,  but  how  or  why  she  could  not 
imagine. 

She  was  not  sufficiently  versed  in  the  world's 
ways  to  understand  the  significance  of  that  im- 
pression. For  the  judgments  of  the  world  are 
always  severe.  And  the  eyes  of  the  world  are 
very  sharp,  just  as  its  ears  are  very  quick,  and 
its  tongue  quicker  and  sharper  and  more  severe 
than  all  else.  But  of  these  things  Miss  Holbrook 
knew  nothing.  Her  mother  had  never  been  any- 
thing but  a  sweet,  innocent  girl,  and  would  never 
be  anything  elsa,  though  she  lived  to  be  a  century 
old.  Her  father  was  a  frank,  ingenuous  boy 
when  he  died,  despite  his  splendid  ability  and 
famous  scholarship.  Miriam,  therefore,  had  a 
noble  birthright  of  utter  unfamiliarity  with  cer- 
tain forms  and  conventions. 

Her  life,  too,  had  been  so  secluded  that  she 
knew  almost  nothing  of  the  shams,  the  hypocri- 
sies, the  hollow,  unmeaning  pretences,  under 
which  society  often  disguises  itself.  During  these 
weeks  at  Interlaken,  when  she  was  seeing  Mr. 
Bedford  every  day,  her  mind  was  not  vexed  with 
confusing  questions,  neither  was  she  troubled 
as  to  what  others  might  say.  And,  as  no  sugges- 
tion had  come  from  the  mother,  or  the  faintest 
hint  from  the  Milltrums,  it  never  once  occurred 
to  her  that  any  possible  harm  could  result  from 
an  acquaintance  in  every  way  so  delightful.  Still, 
she  could  not  entirely  dismiss  a  feeling  of  uneasi- 


THE    GEMMI    PASS  321 

ness  when  Mr.  Bedford  asked  permission  to  tell 
her  a  story,  frankly  saying  that  she  was  in  some 
way  related  to  it.  But  what  could  she  say  in 
reply?  To  refuse  would  be  not  only  ungracious, 
but  significant.  For  that  would  imply  a  singular 
penetration  on  her  part,  and  perhaps  cause  him 
to  think  that  she  had  divined  some  secret  which 
he  had  been  striving  to  conceal. 

"  May  I  ? "  he  asked  again,  observing  her 
hesitation.  "  But  perhaps  you  are  weary,  and 
would  prefer  returning  to  the  hospice  ?  " 

"  Please  tell  me  the  story,"  she  answered,  in  a 
whisper. 

Paul  began  with  Mr.  Saxby's  summons  to  Pel- 
ham,  and  rapidly  traced  the  beginnings  of  his 
acquaintance  with  Miriam  up  to  their  marriage 
and  her  death.  Then  he  spoke  of  Judith,  nor  was 
there  any  lack  of  either  kindness  or  chivalry  in 
what  he  said.  Finally  he  mentioned  the  strange 
meeting  in  the  American  Chapel,  when  it  seemed 
to  him  as  if  he  had  looked  upon  one  who  had  risen 
from  the  dead. 

"  I  cannot  possibly  understand  it,"  he  said.  "  I 
am  simply  bewildered.  And  every  day  only  deep- 
ens the  mystery.  After  I  recovered  from  the  first 
shock  in  Paris,  I  thought  the  likeness  was  merely 
a  natural  coincidence,  its  effect  greatly  heightened 
by  the  presence  of  Doctor  Keithburn,  who  re- 
called so  vividly  the  memories  with  which  he  was 
associated.  But  since  coming  to  Interlaken  the 


322        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

impression  made  in  the  American  Chapel  has  been 
deepened  a  thousandfold.  To  me,  therefore,  you 
are  not  Miriam  Holbrook;  you  are  Miriam 
Saxby!  I  did  not  mean  to  speak  of  this  to  you. 
It  may  possibly  grieve  and  distress  you,  but  some- 
times I  imagined  that  there  was  a  look  of  inquiry 
in  your  eyes,  as  if  there  was  some  question  in 
your  heart  which  I  only  could  answer.  If  I 
have  done  you  wrong  in  telling  you  this  story, 
forgive  me." 

As  Paul  finished  speaking  he  turned  away  from 
Miss  Holbrook  and  looked  down  into  the  Rhone 
valley,  sleeping  so  peacefully  in  the  moonlight. 
Miss  Holbrook  sat  as  one  in  a  dream.  Every 
word  of  the  story  to  which  she  had  just  listened 
carried  a  strange  meaning  to  her  heart,  but  she 
attempted  nothing  by  way  of  reply.  Of  the 
reality  of  the  story  she  had  no  doubt.  How  could 
she?  Had  she  not  weeks  before,  in  her  conver- 
sation with  Mr.  Milltrum,  affirmed  most  positively 
that  the  stranger  she  saw  in  the  American  Chapel 
had  some  mysterious  relation  to  her  own  life? 

And  evidently  Paul  Bedford  did  not  expect 
either  question  or  reply,  for  after  a  time  he  said, 
very  tenderly : 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  think  that  I  have  taken 
an  undue  advantage  of  your  kindness,  Miss  Hol- 
brook, but  I  could  not  go  away  without  telling 
you  my  story." 

Then   they   went  back   to   the  hospice,    Miss 


THE    GEMMI   PASS  323 

Holbrook  going  to  her  room  to  think  over  what 
she  had  heard,  and  Paul  remaining  on  the  veranda 
to  watch  the  mountains  gleam  and  glisten  in  the 
moonlight. 


T, 


IV. 

THE  DESCENT 


HIS  is  pleasure,  I  suppose.  Pure,  sweet, 
unalloyed  pleasure.  How  happy  I  am !  And  you 
look  gloriously  happy,  Peggy.  Anything  more 
delightful,  no  one  could  imagine.  Maud,  of 
course,  can  hardly  contain  herself.  What  a  com- 
fort we  are  less  than  half-way  down!  A  whole 
week  of  this  would  be  paradise." 

Mr.  Milltrum  was  the  speaker,  and  he  was 
delivering  himself  with  much  freedom. 

The  steep,  zigzag  descent  of  the  Gemmi  Pass 
had  been  undertaken  according  to  Miss  Milltrum's 
plan,  but  the  party  had  been  tardy  in  getting 
started,  and,  as  the  sun  in  August  rarely  fails  to 
keep  schedule  time,  the  walk  down  was  a  hot, 
toilsome  affair. 

The  guide,  comfortably  laden  with  shawls, 
wraps,  overcoats,  and  small  hand-bags,  moved  on 
with  enviable  ease,  though  stopping  wherever  it 
was  practicable  to  give  the  travellers  a  chance 
to  rest.  But  a  pause  on  the  steep  side  of  a  Swiss 
mountain,  where  the  path  is  cut  in  the  rock  and 

324 


THE    DESCENT  325 

with  no  trees  to  make  a  shadow  against 
the  sun,  affords  little  rest  or  refreshment.  Mr. 
Milltrum,  therefore,  was  having  things  to  say, 
and  he  was  saying  them  with  the  courage  of  a 
native-born  American. 

"  I  am  so  glad,  Peggy,  you  thought  of  this 
trip.  How  I  have  lived  all  these  years  without 
crossing  the  Gemmi  is  simply  a  miracle.  My 
shrinking  shoes,  my  clinging  clothes,  my  beaded 
brow,  my  blistering  back,  are  profuse  in  express- 
ing the  happiness  I  feel.  I  shall  certainly  change 
my  will  when  I  get  back  to  the  hotel.  Every- 
thing goes  to  you,  Peggy.  You  deserve  it.  Had 
it  not  been  for  your  thoughtfulness,  I  should  now 
be  sitting  in  an  easy  chair  on  the  Victoria  veranda, 
smoking  one  of  Paul's  cigars,  or  bibulating  some 
cool  and  grateful  beverage,  the  possibilities  of 
lunch  at  a  seasonable  hour  suggesting  things 
agreeable  to  my  vigorous  appetite.  Thanks  to 
you,  Peggy,  I  am  here  sweltering  in  this  heat, 
oozing  at  every  pore,  dying  for  a  drink,  and  en- 
joying a  bliss,  the  memory  of  which  will  never 
leave  me." 

"  But,  uncle,  think  of  the  view  from  the  sun> 
mit!  You  said  this  morning  it  was  worth  a 
journey  of  ten  thousand  miles.  You  went  into 
raptures  over  it." 

"Did  I?  It  is  so  long  ago  that  I  don't  re- 
member. However,  I  take  it  all  back.  What 
concerns  me  now  is  not  views,  but  —  " 


326        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Shoes,"  Maud  said,  promptly.  "  We  warned 
you,  uncle,  but  instead  of  wearing  an  easy,  com- 
fortable shoe  you  have  on  dancing  pumps.  No 
wonder  you  suffer,  you  poor  dear." 

"  And  these  are  what  you  call  dancing  pumps  ? 
These  double  -  soled,  rope  -  stitched,  iron  -  spiked 
brogans  ?  But  perhaps  you  are  right,  for  a  more 
fantastic  toe  I  never  saw,  or  one  with  such  trip- 
ping propensities.  If  your  idea  of  dancing  means 
sprawling,  or  gyrating  top-fashion,  then  these 
dainty  creations  are  surely  dancing  pumps." 

As  Mr.  Milltrum  spoke  he  ruefully  contem- 
plated his  foot-gear. 

"  We  haven't  much  farther  to  go,"  Miss  Mill- 
trum said,  soothingly. 

"  Only  about  two  hours  more,  with  the  sun  get- 
ting hotter  every  minute,  and  the  breeze  leaving 
us  as  we  get  into  the  valley.  I  am  so  glad, 
Peggy,  you  insisted  on  this  trip,  and  still  more 
that  you  allowed  me  to  be  one  of  the  party.  I 
never  can  be  sufficiently  grateful." 

By  this  time  the  guide  had  readjusted  his  bur- 
dens and  was  respectfully  standing,  thus  inti- 
mating his  readiness  to  continue  the  descent.  The 
Milltrums,  therefore,  though  without  marked  en- 
thusiasm, resumed  their  journey. 

At  the  request  of  Miss  Milltrum,  when  the 
party  was  leaving  the  hospice,  Paul  Bedford  had 
commissioned  himself  Miss  Holbrook's  attendant 
cavalier,  and,  as  he  had  crossed  the  Gemmi  before, 


THE    DESCENT  327 

the  services  of  a  guide  were  not  essential.  So 
they  went  on  a  little  in  advance  of  the  Milltrums. 

When  they  started  Miss  Holbrook  was  con- 
strained and  embarrassed,  for  Paul  Bedford's 
strange  story  of  the  night  before  was  vivid  in  her 
mind.  Indeed,  so  deep  had  been  the  impression 
which  Paul's  recital  had  made,  that  after  going 
to  her  room  she  remained  awake  half  of  the 
night,  wondering  what  it  all  could  mean.  Nor 
was  it  so  much  the  story  in  itself,  for  she  remem- 
bered Mr.  Milltrum's  words,  "  Nearly  every  per- 
son we  meet  suggests  a  resemblance  to  some  other 
person ; "  but  it  was  her  appropriation  of  that 
story  as  a  personal  experience.  From  the  first 
meeting  with  Paul  Bedford  she  was  conscious  of 
a  mysterious  relationship,  and  that  consciousness 
had  only  strengthened  during  these  weeks  at  In- 
terlaken.  Just  as  he  at  times  would  look  at  her 
and  see  the  living  counterpart  of  his  lost  Miriam, 
so  she  would  look  at  him,  her  mind  haunted  with 
vague,  indistinct  memories.  But,  try  as  she  would, 
nothing  tangible  suggested  itself.  She  went  back 
to  the  days  of  her  early  girlhood,  the  period  of 
visions,  of  dreams,  of  innocent  romance,  and  she 
even  recalled  some  of  her  favorite  heroes  in  fic- 
tion, with  the  hope  of  finding  Paul  Bedford's 
prototype,  and  thus  possibly  account  for  the 
strange  influence  which  possessed  her. 

But  all  in  vain.  Her  youthful  heroes  had  either 
been  dashing  cavaliers,  whose  deeds  of  bravery 


328        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

were  worthy  of  eternal  fame,  or  soulful  trouba- 
dours, whose  songs  lingered  on  the  ear  like  bells 
at  eventide.  With  a  mother  whose  life  had  been 
one  sweet  romance,  with  a  father  whose  genius 
led  him  to  the  heights  of  self-sacrifice,  Miriam's 
ideal  of  manhood  was  surely  different  from  that 
embodied  by  Paul  Bedford.  At  first  wonder, 
surprise,  curiosity,  and  various  other  virtues  pe- 
culiar to  the  feminine  mind,  entered  into  her  study 
of  the  situation  and  its  problems.  But  after  a 
time  these  gave  way  to  deep  perplexity  and  serious 
mental  distress:  She  was  glad,  therefore,  that 
Mr.  Bedford  had  been  recalled  to  London,  and 
would  leave  Interlaken  before  many  days.  In 
his  absence  she  might  perhaps  work  out  of  the 
maze  where  she  was  wandering,  or  obtain  some 
solution  of  the  mystery  which  so  far  had  baffled 
her. 

What  avail,  though,  would  that  be  now  ?  Only 
the  night  before  he  had  told  his  story,  and  as  she 
listened  her  heart  responded  most  strangely,  and, 
while  she  gave  him  neither  word  nor  look  by  way 
of  reply,  she  was  certain  that  he  felt  the  sym- 
pathetic current  which  flowed  as  from  a  spring 
of  infinite  depth. 

No  wonder,  therefore,  at  her  embarrassment 
when  Miss  Milltrum  placed  her  in  Paul  Bedford's 
charge,  and  she  mentally  resolved  to  keep  with 
the  other  members  of  the  party  as  much  as  pos- 
sible. But  this  she  found  was  not  practicable. 


THE    DESCENT  329 

The  Gemmi  Pass  on  the  Rhone  valley  side  is  not 
intended  for  groups  and  companies  to  go  abreast. 
So  nothing  remained  but  a  quiet  acceptance  of 
the  plan  suggested  by  Miss  Milltrum.  For  some 
time  after  leaving  the  summit  she  was  compara- 
tively independent,  but  soon  the  walking  became 
increasingly  difficult,  and  occasionally  looked 
more  dangerous  than  it  really  was.  At  such  times 
Paul  insisted  on  her  taking  his  arm,  and  then 
again  he  would  firmly  clasp  her  hand,  fearing 
she  might  slip  at  some  sharp  corner  where  the 
fence  looked  unsafe.  Ere  long  she  found  Paul's 
arm  a  grateful  assistance,  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously would  reach  out  her  hand  when  help  was 
required. 

They  stopped  frequently,  partly  to  keep  within 
easy  distance  of  the  Milltrums,  but  more,  perhaps, 
to  enjoy  the  glorious  views  which  so  distinguish 
this  passage  of  the  Gemmi. 

When  about  half-way  down,  they  met  a  Ger- 
man professor  and  his  wife,  the  wife  on  horse- 
back, the  professor  on  foot.  The  professor  ap^ 
pealed  to  them  for  help  and  advice.  He  said  his 
wife's  horse  insisted  on  walking  at  the  extreme 
edge  of  the  path,  and  that  she  was  frightened 
almost  to  death.  For  some  reason,  the  professor 
went  on  to  say,  the  guide  only  shook  his  head 
when  remonstrated  with,  and  was  as  stubborn 
as  the  horse  whose  bridle  he  was  holding.  Being 
very  stout,  and  evidently  not  accustomed  to  moun- 


330        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

tain  climbing,  the  professor  looked  unhappy  and 
uncomfortable.  His  face  was  almost  scarlet,  he 
was  bathed  in  perspiration,  and  while  speaking 
he  mopped  himself  with  a  handkerchief  of  heroic 
proportions.  Discovering  that  Miss  Holbrook 
spoke  German,  he  was  overjoyed,  for  his  English 
was  severely  strained  in  the  effort  to  explain 
his  situation.  Miss  Holbrook  spoke  to  the  pro- 
fessor's wife,  and  tried  to  comfort  the  nervous 
woman  by  assuring  her  that  the  Pass  was  not 
as  dangerous  as  it  seemed,  and  had  almost  per- 
suaded her  to  resume  the  journey,  when  the  horse 
kicked  loose  a  large  stone  and  sent  it  over  the 
edge,  where  it  went  leaping  from  cliff  to  cliff. 
Then  the  professor's  wife  screamed,  the  professor 
shouted,  and  if  the  guide  had  not  held  the  horse 
with  a  hand  of  iron  the  results  might  have  been 
serious.  The  hysterical  woman  declared  passion- 
ately that  nothing  would  induce  her  to  go  a  step 
farther,  that  the  horse  was  a  vicious  brute,  that 
the  guide  could  not  be  trusted,  that  she  was  cer- 
tain they  would  all  be  killed,  and  that  people  were 
only  idiots  and  fools  for  attempting  such  things. 
But  after  a  time,  thanks  to  Miss  Holbrook's 
soothing  words,  she  lost  something  of  her  fear, 
though  positive  in  her  determination  not  to  go 
to  the  summit. 

Miss  Holbrook  suggested  to  the  professor  that 
he  allow  his  wife  an  opportunity  to  rest,  which 


THE    DESCENT  331 

might  result  possibly  in  her  being  able  to  resume 
the  journey. 

"  In  that  case  we  will  have  lunch,"  he  said.  "  It 
is  many  hours  since  breakfast.  And  you  will  join 
us,  will  you  not  ?  It  will  do  my  wife  much  good, 
and  give  me  great  pleasure  as  well." 

Fortunately,  there  was  a  sheltered  nook  close 
at  hand,  and  from  the  professor's  capacious  hand- 
bag various  supplies  were  produced,  by  no  means 
either  displeasing  to  the  eye  or  unpleasant  to  the 
taste.  To  say  the  least,  the  situation  was  novel. 
Here  were  Miss  Holbrook  and  Paul  Bedford 
lunching  midway  in  the  Gemmi  Pass  with  a  Ger- 
man professor  and  his  wife  whom  they  had  never 
seen  until  that  hour,  whose  names  even  they  did 
not  know,  and  from  whom  they  expected  to  part 
when  the  meal  was  ended.  But  travel  is  usually 
suggestive  of  adventure,  and  without  novelty  life 
would  be  a  very  tame  affair.  And  the  professor 
was  so  grateful  for  Miss  Holbrook's  kindness 
to  his  wife  that  to  decline  his  hospitality  would 
have  seemed  ungracious.  Besides,  a  breakfast 
at  the  Gemmi  hospice  is  not  always  as  substantial 
as  some  might  desire,  and  a  brisk  walk  in  the 
morning  air,  however  romantic  or  inspiring,  tends 
ultimately  to  hunger.  Mr.  Milltrum  had  made 
that  discovery  some  time  before,  nor  had  he  much 
difficulty  in  persuading  his  nieces  to  pause  at  a 
suitable  place  and  diligently  explore  certain  lunch- 
baskets  with  which  the  guide  had  been  provided. 


332        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

This  will  explain  why  that  great  and  good  man 
was  not  present  to  share  in  the  hospitality  of  the 
grateful  German  and  his  yet  more  grateful  wife. 

"  I  have  not  been  in  your  country,"  the  pro- 
fessor said  to  Paul,  after  learning  he  was  from 
New  York,  "  but  my  wife,  she  has  relations  there. 
Perhaps  you  have  seen  them.  They  are  in  New 
Orleans." 

Paul  intimated  gently  that  New  Orleans  was 
not  a  New  York  suburb,  but  the  professor  went 
on : 

"  You  Americans  travel  much,  very  much,  and 
a  hundred  miles  make  a  small  journey  for  you." 

"  A  hundred  miles !  "  Paul  said  to  himself,  as 
he  thought  of  the  distance  between  New  York  and 
New  Orleans. 

"  It  is  of  my  wife's  uncle  that  I  am  speaking. 
He  lives  in  New  Orleans.  But  we  cannot  get 
letters  from  him.  And  there  is  some  property 
which  is  now  in  the  courts.  But  the  property  is 
little,  not  enough  to  pay  for  a  lawyer  to  go  to 
New  Orleans.  So  it  has  waited  for  nearly  ten 
years.  Carreau  is  the  name  of  my  wife's  uncle." 

"  Carreau !  "  Paul  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  Victor  Carreau.    Did  you  know  him  ?  " 

The  professor  looked  eagerly  at  Paul,  whose 
face  betrayed  the  interest  he  felt. 

"  There  was  a  Victor  Carreau  in  New  Orleans 
with  whom  our  firm  had  some  dealings,"  Paul 
answered,  quietly,  "  but  he  died  ten  years  ago." 


THE    DESCENT  333 

Paul  had  a  keen  remembrance  of  Mr.  Mill- 
trum's  sad  visit  to  New  Orleans  at  that  time,  and 
the  still  sadder  results  which  had  followed  it. 

"  He  have  one  daughter ;  her  name  was  Judith. 
He  send  picture  of  her  to  my  wife.  My  wife 
always  carry  picture  of  Judith,  so  that  she  show 
it  to  Americans." 

"  I  have  it  here,"  the  professor's  wife  said, 
bringing  out  from  her  side-bag  a  little  photo- 
graph-case, which  she  handed  to  Miss  Holbrook. 

Miriam  looked  intently  at  the  strikingly  hand- 
some but  imperious  face,  little  dreaming  that  she 
was  holding  in  her  hand  the  portrait  of  Paul 
Bedford's  wife.  Both  the  professor  and  his  wife 
watched  her  eagerly,  hoping  to  detect  some  sign 
of  recognition,  but  as  Miss  Holbrook  had  never 
seen  Judith  the  photograph  to  her  was  that  of  a 
stranger. 

"  You  may  have  met  this  lady,"  she  said,  giv- 
ing Mr.  Bedford  the  card.  "  Any  one  who  has 
met  her  would  certainly  remember  her.  Isn't  she 
brilliantly  handsome?" 

Paul  barely  glanced  at  the  photograph.  One 
brief  look  convinced  him  that  it  was  Judith's 
picture.  Then,  with  a  strange  expression,  one 
which  Miriam  had  never  seen  on  his  face  before, 
he  said  to  the  professor: 

"  This  is  a  photograph  of  my  wife." 

Of  course  the  professor  had  to  exclaim,  "  Mcin 
Gott  in  Himmel! "  then  shake  Paul's  hand  most 


334        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

vigorously,  as  though  inducting  him  into  covenant 
relationship.  And  of  course  the  professor's  wife 
forgot  her  recent  terrors,  in  the  joy  of  finding  a 
family  representative  in  this  unexpected  way. 

For  the  moment  Miss  Holbrook  was  forgotten, 
so  she  quietly  withdrew  from  the  group,  and  went 
over  to  where  the  guide  was  standing.  Just  then 
the  Milltrums  made  their  appearance,  and  ere  long 
Mr.  Milltrum,  with  characteristic  heartiness,  was 
sharing  in  the  excitement  caused  by  the  discovery 
of  Paul's  relationship  to  the  professor  and  his 
wife.  Under  these  new  conditions,  it  was  only 
natural  that  the  professor  should  propose  return- 
ing with  Paul  Bedford  and  his  party,  a  proposal 
to  which  his  wife  gave  grateful  assent.  Nor  did 
the  guide  demur,  particularly  when  he  was  given 
to  understand  that  he  would  be  a  gainer  by  the 
transaction. 

"  No  more  mountains  for  me,  Peggy.  I  am 
through.  I  have  had  all  the  mountains  I  care 
for.  Giddy  young  creatures  like  you  and  Maud 
may  enjoy  gliding  and  sliding,  and  coasting  and 
roasting,  but  for  the  future  I  will  take  my  moun- 
tains in  pictures.  How  my  feet  smart!  Don't  I 
wish  we  were  all  back  in  Interlaken.  Just  catch 
me  again  on  any  such  rampage  as  this." 

"  Now,  uncle,  it  really  wasn't  so  bad,  after  all. 
And  you  walked  the  last  part  of  the  journey  like 
an  athlete.  I  was  proud  of  you." 

"  Maud,  you  mean  well.     At  least,  there  are 


THE    DESCENT  335 

stray  moments  when  you  mean  to  mean  well. 
This  is  one  of  them.  But  don't  overwork  it. 
Your  suggestion  concerning  my  athletic  propen- 
sities strains  me.  And  it  isn't  any  use.  Now 
that  I  am  here,  I  don't  intend  to  budge  from  this 
cubby-house  of  a  hotel  until  my  feet  resume  their 
natural  proportions,  and  my  neck  loses  its  present 
lobster  hue." 

"  You  are  not  half  as  badly  used  up  as  Pro- 
fessor Schuman.  Poor  man,  what  a  time  he 
had!" 

"  No  wonder.  Think  of  a  man  of  his  build 
attempting  the  Gemmi  Pass!  But  then,  every 
man  is  not  of  athletic  type,  is  he,  Maud  ?  " 

"  No  use  asking  you  to  take  a  walk,  I  suppose," 
Paul  Bedford  remarked,  as  he  came  out  of  the 
hotel  and  looked  inquiringly  at  Mr.  Milltrum. 

"  No,  sir.  This  village  may  contain  the  seven 
wonders  of  the  world,  and  seventy  times  seven 
more  of  other  things,  for  all  I  care.  Explore  it 
as  you  please.  Turn  it  inside  out.  Buy  anything 
and  everything  that  strikes  your  fancy.  But  from 
this  porch  and  easy  chair  I  will  not  be  dragged  by 
any  one.  Before  you  go,  Paul,  fill  my  cigar- 
case.  Isn't  Miss  Holbrook  going  with  you, 
Peggy?" 

"  No,  she  complained  of  a  headache  and  went 
to  her  room  soon  after  lunch.  She  will  probably 
be  down  before  we  get  back." 

There  was  nothing  imaginary  in  Miss  Hoi- 


336        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

brook's  headache.  The  hot  sun,  the  long  walk, 
and  the  unusual  fatigue  may  have  been  contrib- 
uting causes,  but  possibly  Paul  Bedford's  story 
of  the  night  before,  and  the  singular  way  in 
which  she  came  to  see  the  photograph  of  his  wife, 
affected  her  more  than  she  would  care  to  admit. 
Judith's  face  haunted  her.  Though  frankly  con- 
ceding its  beauty,  and  feeling  also  something  of 
its  mysterious  power,  she  could  see  in  fancy  a 
mocking  look  in  the  eyes,  and  a  curve  of  disdain 
on  the  lips.  Turn  where  she  would,  that  face 
followed  her.  At  times  the  eyes  had  a  gleam 
of  hatred,  and  the  lips  seemed  cruel  and  pitiless. 
She  began  to  wonder  why  Mr.  Bedford  had^  mar- 
ried the  imperious  beauty,  for  in  his  story  he  had 
said  very  little  of  Judith.  Then  another  question 
thrust  itself  upon  her.  Why  had  not  Judith 
sought  to  win  the  love  of  her  husband  ?  Had  her 
pride  been  aroused  because  of  his  devotion  to 
the  dead  Miriam?  But  no  matter  how  she  rea- 
soned with  herself  no  light  came  to  her  bewildered 
mind ;  instead  it  was  only  mystery  upon  mystery. 

Going  down-stairs,  she  found  Mr.  Milltrum 
in  an  easy  chair,  the  very  picture  of  comfort  and 
content. 

"  Isn't  this  delicious?  "  he  asked,  when  she  had 
seated  herself  in  a  chair  not  far  from  his.  "  My 
future  mountain  climbing  will  be  done  in  a  rock- 
ing-chair." 

Miss  Holbrook  smiled. 


THE    DESCENT  337 

Then  they  went  on  to  speak  of  the  recent  haps 
and  mishaps,  ending  up  with  the  meeting  of  Pro- 
fessor Schuman  and  his  wife. 

"  Paul  has  promised  the  next  time  he  is  in 
New  Orleans  to  send  the  professor  some  entries 
and  dates  from  the  church  register.  These  things, 
it  seems,  are  necessary  to  wind  up  the  estate." 

"  Did  you  know  Mr.  Carreau  ?  "  Miss  Hoi- 
brook  asked,  innocently. 

Mr.  Milltrum  turned  away  his  head,  flicked  the 
ashes  from  his  cigar,  then  looked  wistfully  at  the 
mountain  along  whose  rocky  path  he  had  travelled 
that  morning. 

Miss  Holbrook  felt  that  her  question  had 
touched  some  tender  memory  in  Mr.  Milltrum's 
heart,  and  was  sorry  she  had  asked  it.  Glancing 
around  to  see  that  they  were  alone,  Mr.  Milltrum 
said: 

"  An  old  man's  story  is  usually  a  dull,  stupid 
affair.  But  I  feel  in  the  mood,  Miriam,  for  tell- 
ing you  one." 

It  was  not  a  long  story.  Tragedies  seldom  are. 
The  comedian  may  smile  and  grimace  to  almost 
any  length,  because  wit  and  jest  have  no  relations 
with  sorrow  or  death.  But  when  people  are 
speaking  of  shattered  hopes,  broken  hearts,  ruined 
lives,  desolate  homes,  their  words  are  not  as 
rockets  that  bespangle  the  heavens,  but  as  the  bell 
that  tolls  when  one  is  carried  to  his  burial. 

More  than  once  Miriam  wiped  the  hot  tears 


338        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

from  her  cheeks.  Again  and  again  the  sob  came 
to  her  throat.  And  when  Mr.  Milltrum  had  fin- 
ished she  took  his  hand  lovingly  in  hers  and  kissed 
it,  as  she  would  the  hand  of  a  king. 

She  now  understood  why  Paul  Bedford  had 
married  Judith  Carreau,  and  just  as  clearly  why 
the  marriage  was  such  a  miserable  failure. 

But  that  night,  even  while  she  slept,  the  face 
of  Judith  troubled  her,  and  in  her  dreams  she 
could  see  the  eyes  gleam  maliciously,  and  the  lips 
curl  with  contempt. 


V. 

"  MIRIAM  !  O  MIRIAM  ! 


W 


HEN  the  Milltrum  party  returned  to  In- 
terlaken  three  days  later,  Paul  Bedford  found  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Saxby,  which  stated  that  Mrs. 
Saxby's  health  was  so  far  restored  as  to  permit 
her  removal  from  Paris,  and  that  Doctor  Bar- 
rington,  who  was  with  them  at  the  Continental, 
strongly  urged  their  going  to  Switzerland.  Mr. 
Saxby  added  that  he  had  written  to  the  Victoria, 
and  hoped  they  would  reach  Interlaken  before 
Paul  left  for  London. 

Going  to  the  hotel  office,  Paul  learned  that  the 
Saxbys  were  expected  that  evening,  Mr.  Saxby 
having  so  wired  them  the  day  before. 

Paul  was  at  the  station  when  the  train  came  in. 
Mrs.  Saxby  saw  him  before  he  saw  her,  and 
greeted  him  as  a  mother  would  her  son.  To 
Mrs.  Saxby  Paul  seemed  strangely  related.  In 
his  presence  she  was  able  somehow  to  recall  the 
absent  Miriam.  When  he  was  near  she  could 
not  be  persuaded  that  Miriam  was  far  away,  and 
at  such  times  she  would  listen  for  her  voice,  or 

339 


340        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

glance  about  the  room  to  see  if  she  were  not 
present. 

With  Paul  living1,  it  was  difficult  to  convince 
Mrs.  Saxby  that  Miriam  was  really  dead.  Nat- 
urally, she  was  distressed  when  he  married  Judith 
Carreau,  and  at  first  resented  it  keenly.  But  when 
Paul  told  her  the  circumstances  of  his  marriage, 
and  the  nature  of  his  obligations  to  Mr.  Milltrum, 
she  at  once  acquitted  him  of  any  disloyalty  toward 
Miriam.  Indeed,  she  was  more  deeply  attached 
to  him  than  ever,  as  she  now  knew  positively  that 
Judith  could  never  take  Miriam's  place  in  his 
heart. 

"  You  see,  Paul,  we  are  travelling  in  state," 
Mr.  Saxby  said,  pleasantly,  as  Doctor  Keithburn 
and  Doctor  Barrington  got  into  the  hotel  coach 
with  their  party. 

"  You  certainly  have  a  royal  chaplain,"  Paul 
replied,  as  he  smiled  at  Doctor  Keithburn,  "  and 
as  a  court  physician  Doctor  Barrington  easily 
heads  the  list." 

"  We  are  only  obscure  Pelhamites,  far  from 
the  land  of  our  fathers,"  Doctor  Keithburn  re- 
marked, in  his  quaint  way. 

"  Pious  pilgrims  in  quest  of  holy  knowledge," 
Doctor  Barrington  added. 

"  Such  modesty  overwhelms  me,"  Paul  sug- 
gested, slyly. 

"  As  a  Wall  Street  flower,  a  dainty,  delicate, 
timid  little  thing,  you  are  of  course  easily  over- 


"MIRIAM!    O   MIRIAM!" 

whelmed,"  Doctor  Keithburn  observed,  sympa- 
thetically. 

"  As  a  quiet,  retired  spot,  where  men  become 
glaringly  modest,  Wall  Street  deserves  the  parch- 
ment with  the  double  seal,"  Doctor  Barrington 
said,  insinuatingly. 

By  this  time  the  coach  was  drawing  up  to  the 
hotel,  and  soon  the  Saxby  party  had  gone  to  their 
rooms  to  dress  for  dinner. 

Oh  entering  the  dining-room  with  Mrs.  Saxby, 
Paul  glanced  over  to  the  corner  where  Mrs.  Hoi- 
brook  and  Miriam  usually  sat,  but  from  the  ap- 
pearance of  their  table  it  was  evident  they  were 
not  expected  to  dinner.  Miss  Milltrum  was  also 
absent  from  her  accustomed  place,  but  Maud  ex- 
plained that  her  sister,  with  the  Holbrooks,  had 
gone  to  the  Jungfrau  to  meet  some  friends  who 
had  just  arrived. 

After  dinner  there  was  the  usual  adjournment 
to  the  veranda,  where  the  ladies  sipped  their  coffee, 
and  the  gentlemen  smioked  their  cigars,  both  func- 
tions being  materially  enhanced  by  Mr.  Milltrum's 
humorous  account  of  the  Gemmi  Pass  escapade. 

"  Next  time  I  will  chaperon  a  young  ladies' 
boarding-school.  I  am  now  qualified  for  it.  Of 
course,  there  are  compensations.  One  hour  you 
are  shivering  with  cold,  the  next  hour  baking 
in  the  heat;  then  again  you  will  be  as  hungry  as 
a  bear,  and  at  another  time  dying  for  a  drink. 
Don't  miss  it,  Doctor  Barrington,  it  is  the  oppor- 


342        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

tunity  of  a  life.  And  be  sure  to  have  Doctor 
Keithburn  go  with  you.  You  will  inspire  him 
with  everlasting  gratitude.  My  nieces,  I  think, 
would  like  to  go  again.  Maud  is  just  aching  for 
another  chance.  We  were  gone  only  four  days, 
but  red-letter  days  they  surely  were.  Perhaps 
you  could  persuade  Mr.  Saxby  to  go.  He  shakes 
his  head.  Well,  don't  let  that  discourage  you. 
Parties  go  from  here  every  day.  And  some  of 
them  come  back  to  gloat  and  glory  in  their 
achievement.  I  am  doing  that  now  —  gloating 
over  the  victims  who  will  start  from  the  hotel 
to-morrow,  and  glorying  in  the  hope  of  recover- 
ing the  use  of  my  feet  some  time  between  now  and 
Christmas." 

"  I  made  that  trip  when  I  was  a  student  in  an 
insane  hospital,"  Doctor  Barrington  said,  with 
inimitable  gravity. 

"  And  I  when  I  was  a  patient  under  Doctor 
Barrington's  care,"  Doctor  Keithburn  solemnly 
remarked. 

"  And  I  a  few  months  before  getting  married, 
as  a  preparation  for  the  troubles  of  matrimony," 
Mr.  Saxby  added,  smiling  at  his  wife,  whose  chair 
was  next  to  that  of  Paul  Bedford. 

Later  in  the  evening  most  of  the  party  went 
to  the  Kursaal,  only  Mrs.  Saxby  and  Paul  re- 
mlaining  on  the  veranda.  They  sat  talking  ear- 
nestly, for  they  had  many  things  to  say  to  each 
other,  though  Miriam  was  the  chief  subject  of 


"MIRIAM!    O    MIRIAM!"  343 

their  conversation.  Slowly  the  light  faded  from 
the  sky  and  the  shadows  gathered  on  the  distant 
mountains.  But  the  cool,  calm  twilight  was  de- 
licious, especially  to  Mrs.  Saxby,  who  had  so 
recently  left  Paris,  where  the  heat  had  been  almost 
unendurable. 

"  I  have  been  so  desirous  of  seeing  you,  Paul, 
particularly  for  some  weeks  past,  for  I  have  had 
the  strangest  dreams  —  no,  I  can't  call  them 
dreams,  in  fact,  I  don't  know  what  to  call  them 
—  about  Miriam.  Do  you  know,  I  had  an  im- 
pression that  she  was  in  Paris!  That  Sunday 
when  you  came  to  our  hotel  with  Doctor  Keith- 
burn  I  distinctly  felt  her  presence." 

How  well  Paul  remembered  that  Sunday !  But 
how  singular  that  Mrs.  Saxby,  who  was  unable 
to  go  to  the  American  Chapel,  and  consequently 
did  not  see  the  mysterious  stranger  there,  should 
have  been  so  influenced! 

"  You  look  surprised,  Paul,  and  I  don't  won- 
der at  it;  nevertheless,  if  you  had  told  me  that 
Sunday  you  had  seen  Miriam  in  the  Amer- 
ican Chapel,  it  wouldn't  have  startled  me  in  the 
least.  I  am  serious,  Paul." 

And  Paul  knew  she  was  by  her  face,  her 
manner,  and  the  earnestness  with  which  she 
spoke. 

"  Of  course  I  never  speak  of  these  things  ex- 
cept to  you.  Even  Mr.  Saxby  doesn't  know  any- 
thing about  them.  I  once  gave  Doctor  Barring- 


344        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

ton  a  hint  which  he  might  have  followed  up,  but 
instead  he  wrote  a  prescription." 

Like  most  physicians,  Doctor  Harrington  be- 
lieved that  a  sound  .body  was  essential  to  a  sound 
mind,  and,  as  it  was  his  business  to  take  care  of 
the  body,  he  usually  made  thorough  work  of  it. 

"  Then  lately,  Paul,  I  have  had  such  a  long- 
ing to  come  here.  And  I  don't  understand  it. 
There  is  really  nothing  in  the  place  for  me.  Mr. 
Saxby,  I  know,  would  have  much  preferred  Lu- 
cerne. He  said  I  would  find  more  of  an  American 
colony  there,  a*hd  probably  a  number  of  my 
friends.  But  I  wanted  to  come  here." 

"  And  that,  of  course,  settled  it,"  Paul  said, 
with  a  smile.  "  My  only  regret  is  that  you  didn't 
come  a  month  ago.  This  is  a  quiet,  restful  spot, 
and  I  am  certain  it  will  do  you  lots  of  good.  Mrs. 
Holbrook,  a  friend  of  Miss  Milltrum,  came  here 
last  month,  and  her  health  was  wonderfully  im- 
proved. I  am  awfully  sorry  that  I  must  leave 
to-morrow." 

As  Paul  spoke  he  observed  Miss  Holbrook 
and  Miss  Milltrum  go  across  the  street  to  a 
curio  shop  much  patronized  by  tourists,  and  then 
a  few  moments  later  he  saw  Miss  Holbrook  come 
slowly  up  the  path  which  led  to  the  hotel  veranda. 
As  the  Jungfrau,  where  she  had  been  visiting, 
was  within  speaking  distance  of  the  Victoria, 
Miss  Holbrook,  following  the  custom  of  Inter- 
laken,  was  without  hat  or  wrap,  save  a  dainty 


"MIRIAM!    O   MIRIAM!"  345 

little  shawl  thrown  loosely  over  her  shoulders. 
In  accordance  with  an  almost  invariable  rule,  her 
dinner-gown  was  of  soft  white  silk,  and  made 
after  a  style  from  which  she  rarely  departed. 

As  Paul  looked  at  her  he  was  instantly  re- 
minded of  the  Miriam  of  Pelham  days,  and, 
though  the  resemblance  no  longer  startled  him 
as  at  first,  there  were  times  when  it  seemed 
strangely  impressive. 

Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  in  Mrs. 
Saxby's  weak  and  nervous  condition,  the  appear- 
ance of  Miss  Holbrook  might  seriously  affect  her. 
And  especially  such  an  appearance  as  she  then 
made.  For  there  was  nothing  lacking  to  complete 
the  illusion.  The  twilight  only  heightened  the 
effect.  He  must,  therefore,  in  some  way,  divert 
her  attention,  at  least  until  Miss  Holbrook  had 
entered  the  hotel,  and  then  he  would  cautiously 
broach  the  matter  of  her  strange  resemblance 
to  the  Miriam  whom  they  both  so  lovingly 
remembered. 

"Have  you  seen  this?"  he  asked,  excitedly, 
taking  a  package  from  his  pocket  and  opening 
it  with  unwonted  eagerness. 

But  he  was  too  late. 

"Miriam!  Miriam!  My  darling!  My  dar- 
ling !  "  Mrs.  Saxby  cried,  and  starting  from  the 
chair  she  ran  down  the  veranda  steps,  and  throw- 
ing her  arms  around  Miss  Holbrook's  neck  kissed 
her  again  and  again. 


346        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Paul,  she  is  not  dead !  She  has  only  been 
away.  And  now  she  has  come  back  again.  O 
Miriam !  My  Miriam !  " 

Then  with  feverish  strength  she  drew  Miss 
Holbrook's  head  upon  her  breast,  and  embraced 
her  with  a  tenderness  of  which  only  a  mother 
is  capable. 

Fortunately  for  Miss  Holbrook,  Paul  had  told 
her  that  the  Saxbys  were  coming  to  Interlaken, 
and  with  his  own  story  so  vivid  in  her  mind,  she 
was  able  to  understand  something  of  the  feeling 
which  possessed-Mrs.  Saxby.  She  did  not,  there- 
fore, attempt  to  remove  herself  from  Mrs. 
Saxby's  arms.  Neither  did  she  have  any  desire 
to  do  so.  Nor  did  she  refuse  any  of  the  kisses 
that  were  being  lavished  upon  her.  She  even 
returned  them,  and  with  a  passion  that  was  almost 
startling.  To  Paul,  who  was  the  only  witness 
of  this  strange  scene,  it  seemed  as  a  meeting  of 
mother  and  daughter  after  years  of  separation. 

But  a  shock  so  sudden  and  overwhelming  was 
too  much  for  Mrs.  Saxby,  weakened  as  she  was 
by  a  serious  protracted  sickness,  and  with  the 
words,  "  Miriam !  My  Miriam !  "  she  swooned 
away.  Paul  tenderly  carried  her  back  to  her 
chair  on  the  veranda,  when  Miss  Holbrook  said, 
quietly,  "  Leave  her  with  me.  Send  to  the  Kur- 
saal  for  Mr.  Saxby.  Miss  Milltrum  is  just  across 
the  street.  Tell  her  to  come." 

Very  soon  Miss  Holbrook  had  all  the  assist- 


"MIRIAM!    O    MIRIAM!"  347 

ance  necessary,  and  when  Mr.  Saxby  arrived 
with  Doctor  Barrington,  Mrs.  Saxby  was  resting 
easily  in  her  own  room. 

Later  in  the  evening  Doctor  Barrington  asked 
Paul  Bedford  to  state  the  circumstances  under 
which  Mrs.  Saxby  had  been  so  affected.  Paul 
told  him,  beginning  with  the  impression  first  made 
upon  himself  in  the  American  Chapel,  then  his 
meeting  with  Miss  Holbrook  in  Interlaken,  finally 
describing  the  scene  so  distressful  to  Mrs.  Saxby. 

"  Then  it  is  more  than  a  mere  resemblance  ?  " 
Doctor  Barrington  asked.  "  Sometimes,  you 
know,  there  are  tricks  of  features  and  reproduc- 
tions of  expression,  which  at  first  are  very 
marked,  but  afterwards  we  discover  how  deeply 
we  have  been  mistaken." 

"  I  have  often  been  deceived,"  Doctor  Keith- 
burn  remarked,  who  had  listened  attentively  to 
Paul's  story,  "  but  the  surprising  thing  to  me 
is  the  in  frequency  with  which  nature  repeats  her- 
self. Considering  that  we  are  all  more  or  less 
alike,  it  is  really  marvellous  that  we  can  maintain 
our  identity." 

"  Of  about  the  same  height,  as  you  say  Miss 
Holbrook  is,  dressed  as  Miriam  was  in  the  habit 
of  dressing,  with  just  light  enough  to  impart  a 
certain  mysterious  quality,  and  then  your  conver- 
sation undoubtedly  awaking  tender  memories 
in  Mrs.  Saxby's  mind,  I  can  readily  see  why  she 
was  moved  so  strangely.  Besides,  the  trip  from 


348        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Paris  must  have  fatigued  her.  But  she  insisted 
on  coming  right  through.  I  never  knew  her  to 
be  really  obstinate  before.  I  warned  her  again 
and  again,  but  to  no  purpose.  Now  we  have  the 
result." 

Doctor  Barrington  had  indeed  cause  for  com- 
plaint. Most  faithfully,  but  with  rare  tenderness, 
he  had  cautioned  Mrs.  Saxby,  urging  her  to  make 
the  journey  by  easy  stages,  and  giving  her  sub- 
stantial reasons  for  his  advice.  Usually  she  was 
very  obedient  to  her  medical  adviser.  And  for 
Doctor  Barrington  she  entertained  profound  re- 
spect. For  thirty  years  he  had  been  coming  to 
her  home,  and  her  confidence  in  his  skill  was 
unbounded.  But  in  this  instance  she  would  not 
be  guided  by  him,  and,  with  what  seemed  sheer 
obstinacy,  allowed  herself  hardly  any  rest  until 
she  reached  Interlaken. 

"  She  won't  get  over  this  for  weeks,"  he  said, 
sadly.  "  Anything  relating  to  Miriam  affects  her 
strangely.  It  is  nearly  ten  years  since  Miriam 
died,  but  Mrs.  Saxby  at  times  feels  it  as  keenly 
as  when  the  dear  girl  was  buried.  What  a  sweet 
child  she  was !  " 

As  Doctor  Barrington  spoke  he  rose  from  his 
chair  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the  veranda, 
where  he  stood  for  a  few  minutes  watching  the 
light  die  away  in  the  sky.  Then  he  came  back 
and  sat  down  again.  And  it  was  now  almost 
dark,  as  dark  as  it  ever  is  in  Switzerland  during 


"MIRIAM!    O    MIRIAM!"  349 

August,  for  the  evening  twilight  like  a  dissolving 
view  only  fades  into  that  of  the  morning,  with 
almost  nothing  of  real  night  between.  For  some 
time  the  three  men  sat  in  silence,  each  busy  with 
his  own  thoughts.  Then  a  soft  voice  was  heard : 

"  Mr.  Bedford,  may  I  speak  with  you  a 
moment  ?  " 

Instinctively  all  three  turned  in  the  direction  of 
the  speaker,  when  Doctor  Keithburn  exclaimed, 
"Merciful  heavens,  it  is  Miriam  Saxby!" 

"  No,  not  Miriam  Saxby,  but  Miss  Holbrook," 
Paul  said  in  a  low,  intense  tone,  glancing  at 
Doctor  Barrington,  who  stood  intently  regarding 
the  figure  which  had  also  startled  him. 

"  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  Paul  added,  going 
to  the  door  at  which  Miss  Holbrook  was  stand- 
ing. 

"  Doctor  Barrington  thinks  she  will  be  all  right 
in  the  morning,"  they  could  hear  him  say. 
"  Please  do  not  allow  yourself  to  be  anxious 
about  her.  And  won't  you  try  to  get  some  rest, 
Miss  Holbrook.  I  feel  distressed  on  your  ac- 
count." 

"  I  am  so  sorry  that  this  happened,  Mr.  Bed- 
ford," they  could  hear  her  say,  and  the  voice 
seemed  as  that  of  the  Miriam  whom  they  had  both 
known  so  well.  "  It  was,  perhaps,  thoughtless  of 
me,  but  I  never  imagined  —  "  the  rest  died  away 
in  a  whisper. 

Then  they  heard : 


350        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Good  night,  Miss  Holbrook.  I  may  see  you 
in  the  morning;  if  not,  good-by." 

After  this  followed  a  soft  murmur,  when  the 
door  shut  gently,  and  Paul  came  back  to  his  chair 
on  the  veranda. 

"  I  am  not  surprised  now  at  Mrs.  Saxby's  de- 
lusion," Doctor  Keithburn  said,  "  the  resemblance 
is  simply  wonderful.  What  possible  explanation 
is  there,  Doctor  Barrington,  for  such  a  thing  ?  " 

"  There  may  be  some  distant  relationship,  a 
family  connection  that  might  account  for  it. 
Heredity  is  a  curious  thing.  Nothing  is  more 
uncertain  or  freaky.  Sometimes  children  in  the 
direct  line  will  be  ignored,  and  the  distinct  family 
likeness  apparently  die  out,  and  then  it  will  sud- 
denly reappear  in  some  branch  or  offshoot  where 
no  one  expected  it.  In  this  case  the  resemblance 
is  most  remarkable.  No  wonder  Mrs.  Saxby 
was  overcome.  I  had  to  give  her  an  opiate,  a 
heavy  one,  too,  and  I  confess  to  some  anxiety 
when  she  returns  to  consciousness." 

"  She  will  probably  remember  the  experience 
of  this  evening?  "  Doctor  Keithburn  asked. 

"  That  depends.  She  may  regard  it  as  a  dream 
or  hallucination,  and  consequently  say  nothing 
about  it.  Two  or  three  times  in  Paris  she  was 
disposed  to  be  visionary,  but  I  gave  her  no  en- 
couragement. She  will  hesitate,  therefore,  before 
mentioning  this  to  me." 

"  But  she  is  bound  to  see  Miss  Holbrook  almost 


"MIRIAM!    O    MIRIAM!"  351 

any  time,  and  what  then  ?  "  It  was  Paul  who 
spoke. 

"  Frankly,  I  don't  know.  Of  course  Miss  Hoi- 
brook  can't  be  spirited  away,  neither  can  she  be 
kept  in  hiding  until  Mrs.  Saxby  leaves  Interlaken. 
I  wish  she  could  be  persuaded  to  go  with  you 
to-morrow.  That  would  simplify  matters  im- 
mensely and  give  Mrs.  Saxby  a  chance  to  work 
out  of  her  nervous,  morbid  condition." 

"  Are  you  serious  in  this  suggestion  ?  "  Paul 
asked,  with  singular  anxiety. 

"  Not  serious  in  suggesting  that  Miss  Holbrook 
be  asked  to  surrender  her  claims  and  privileges 
here  to  accommodate  Mrs.  Saxby.  That  would 
be  preposterous.  Nevertheless  I  am  serious  in 
wishing  she  could  go  with  you  to  London  by  the 
morning  train." 

"  Of  course  I  couldn't  propose  such  a  thing." 

"  Certainly  not.  But  I  intend  seeing  her  in  the 
morning,  and  learning,  if  possible,  something  of 
her  plans.  At  all  hazards,  Mrs.  Saxby  must  be 
kept  very  quiet  for  a  day  or  two." 

There  was  no  need  for  Doctor  Barrington  to 
be  concerned  regarding  the  movements  of  Miss 
Holbrook.  Wise,  indeed,  is  the  man  who  allows 
a  wide  margin  for  the  improbable  and  the  unex- 
pected. It  is  the  mysterious  to-morrow  that 
makes  life  such  a  wondrous  thing. 

While  Doctor  Barrington,  with  clouded  brow 
and  anxious  heart,  was  carefully  considering  what 


352        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

he  would  say  to  Miss  Holbrook  in  the  morning, 
and  if  possible  relieve  his  patient  from  serious 
complications,  a  telegram  was  flashing  over  the 
wires  from  London.  It  was  addressed  to  Mrs. 
Holbrook,  and  read : 

"  Come  at  once  —  Murray  seriously  ill.  I  am 
very  anxious.  BERTHA." 

In  less  than  an  hour  Mrs.  Holbrook  was  pre- 
paring to  leave  for  London  by  the  morning  train. 
Murray  was  the^only  brother  of  her  late  husband, 
and  Bertha  was  his  wife,  a  dear,  sweet,  but  de- 
lightfully helpless  woman,  no  more  fitted  to  cope 
with  this  rough,  brawling  world,  than  duchess 
lace  is  for  the  mainsail  of  a  pilot-boat.  No 
sooner,  therefore,  had  Mrs.  Holbrook  received 
the  telegram  than  she  wired  a  reply,  and  at  once 
began  her  preparations  for  the  journey. 

"  Didn't  I  hear  you  say  that  Mr.  Bedford  was 
going  to  London  to-morrow  ?  "  she  asked  Miriam, 
who  was  assisting  the  maid  in  packing  their 
trunks. 

For  the  moment  Miriam  had  forgotten  Paul 
Bedford's  intention  of  leaving  on  the  morning 
train.  Her  mother's  question,  however,  vividly 
recalled  his  words  of  parting  on  the  hotel  veranda 
only  a  few  hours  before.  She  remembered  also 
her  peculiar  feeling  of  sadness  at  hearing  him 
bid  her  good-by.  Perhaps  she  was  mistaken, 


"MIRIAM!    O    MIRIAM!"  353 

still  she  imagined  that,  instead  of  the  formal 
"Miss  Holbrook,"  he  had  said  "Miriam!" 
But  even  more  distinctly  there  came  back  the 
recollection  of  her  almost  uncontrollable  impulse 
to  say  "  Paul,"  and  as  she  thought  of  this  her  face 
flushed  in  confusion. 

"  I  believe  Mr.  Bedford  is  going  to-morrow," 
she  answered  in  as  steady  a  voice  as  was  possible 
just  then. 

"  I  am  very  glad.  It  will  be  so  much  pleasanter 
for  us.  And  I  like  him  exceedingly.  He  is  my 
ideal  of  a  well-bred  American  gentleman.  By  the 
way,  Miriam,  I  heard  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Saxby, 
intimate  friends  of  Mr.  Bedford,  had  just  come 
from  Paris.  He  may  postpone  his  journey  on 
their  account.  But  I  hope  not.  Dear  me,  how 
selfish  I  am !  " 

When  Mrs.  Holbrook  mentioned  the  Saxbys, 
Miriam  thought  that  her  mother  must  have  heard 
of  the  veranda  incident,  colored  and  exaggerated, 
and  might  question  her  as  to  its  meaning.  She 
was,  therefore,  much  relieved  to  learn  that  Mrs. 
Saxby's  sad  illusion  and  its  unfortunate  result  had 
not  yet  reached  her  mother's  ears. 

While  the  packing  was  going  on  in  the  Hol- 
brook apartments,  Paul  Bedford  was  just  as  busy 
in  his,  and  though  he  would  not  leave  Interlaken 
unless  Doctor  Barrington's  report  of  Mrs. 
Saxby's  condition  warranted  his  doing  so,  matters 
in  London  were  urgent  and  called  for  immediate 


354        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

attention.  Very  early  he  went  to  Doctor  Barring- 
ton's  room,  and  learned  that  Mrs.  Saxby  had 
slept  soundly  most  of  the  night,  and,  unless 
hindered  in  some  unexpected  way,  her  recovery 
was  only  a  matter  of  time. 

So  Paul  left  by  the  hotel  coach,  little  dream- 
ing that  the  Holbrooks  had  already  started  for  the 
station  in  a  carriage  ordered  the  night  before. 
Judge  then  of  his  surprise  when  he  saw  Mrs.  Hoi- 
brook  and  Miriam  waiting  on  the  platform. 
There  was  little  time  for  lengthy  explanations, 
and  just  as  littler  need  of  them.  Soon  the  travel- 
lers had  taken  their  places  and  were  on  their  way 
to  London. 


VI. 

A  DAY  AT  SEA 


Ti 


HE  journey  from  Interlaken  to  London, 
lacking  the  charm  of  novelty,  and  being  made 
with  all  possible  haste,  afforded  little  enjoyment 
to  any  of  the  travellers,  and  for  some  time  a 
measure  of  restraint  seemed  to  prevail.  Mrs. 
Holbrook,  an  exceedingly  gracious  and  enter- 
taining woman,  quick  to  note  and  appreciate  any- 
thing worth  seeing,  and  by  no  means  lacking  a 
sense  of  humor,  spoke  but  seldom,  and  then 
merely  in  reply  to  some  inquiry;  while  her  face 
had  a  worn,  anxious  look,  the  result,  doubtless, 
of  the  telegram  announcing  Mr.  Murray  Hoi- 
brook's  dangerous  sickness.  Miriam  sat  by  the 
window  looking  at  the  country  through  which 
the  train  was  speeding,  her  thoughts  meanwhile 
busy  with  the  strange  events  of  the  past  weeks. 
She  went  back  to  that  day  in  the  American  Chapel, 
when  she  saw  Mr.  Bedford  for  the  first  time,  and 
recalled  most  distinctly  the  singular  emotions  his 
presence  aroused  in  her  heart.  Then  she  thought 
of  their  meeting  a  few  weeks  later  in  Interlaken. 

355 


356        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

What  a  meeting  that  was !  With  what  intentness 
they  had  looked  at  each  other,  both  evidently 
afraid  to  ask  the  question  that  was  so  eager  for 
expression!  Then  she  remembered,  and  with 
startling  vividness,  the  evening  on  the  Gemmi, 
when  Paul  Bedford  told  her  the  story  of  his  life. 
How  strange  it  was,  and  how  unlike  anything 
she  had  ever  heard  before!  Most  wonderfully 
that  story  had  been  corroborated  by  Mrs.  Saxby, 
whose  pathetic  cry,  "  Miriam !  O  Miriam !  " 
kept  ringing  in  her  ears. 

Nor  did  she  -fail  to  recall  the  exclamation  of 
Doctor  Keithburn  the  night  before  at  her  appear- 
ance on  the  hotel  veranda,  or  the  look  of  amaze- 
ment on  the  face  of  Doctor  Barrington. 

But  while  all  these  things  perplexed  her,  deeper 
far  was  the  mystery  hidden  in  her  own  heart. 
Her  extraordinary  likeness  to  Miriam  Saxby 
might  in  some  way  be  explained.  Such  things, 
though  rare,  were  not  unknown.  What  really 
troubled  her  was  the  feeling  that  in  some  mysteri- 
ous way  her  life  was  gradually  blending  with  that 
of  Paul  Bedford,  nor  was  it  as  the  coming  to- 
gether of  two  separate  rivers  uniting  in  a  common 
stream,  but  rather  as  if  some  dividing  barrier  had 
been  removed  and  the  seas  again  made  one. 

Miriam  Holbrook  was  not  a  sentimentalist. 
Neither  was  she  possessed  with  a  high  and  foolish 
spirit  of  romance.  Those  who  knew  her  best  were 
wont  to  speak  of  her  freedom  from  many  of  the 


A    DAY    AT    SEA  357 

vagaries  common  to  young  womanhood.  It  may 
have  been  that  the  responsibilities  involved  by 
her  father's  death,  and  the  need  of  her  mother 
for  special  care,  developed  a  maturity  far  beyond 
her  years,  but  when  other  girls  of  her  age  were 
full  of  dreams  and  fancies,  she  was  taken  up  with 
concerns  of  infinitely  greater  moment.  No 
wonder,  therefore,  she  was  much  perplexed  re- 
garding her  mysterious  relationship  with  Paul 
Bedford.  And  every  day  the  mystery  only  deep- 
ened. 

Paul  Bedford,  in  his  corner  of  the  railway  car- 
riage, was  also  doing  some  serious  thinking. 
Tolerably  certain  of  himself  and  of  his  ability 
to  hold  his  feelings  under  control,  yet  since  that 
night  on  the  Gemmi  he  had  been  anxious  to  leave 
Interlaken,  and  in  the  excitement  of  business  for- 
get, if  possible,  the  influences  that  were  encircling 
him.  The  remembrance  of  that  night  was  any- 
thing but  pleasant  to  Paul  Bedford.  Indeed  he 
was  angry  with  himself  for  having  spoken  as 
he  did.  He  felt  that  he  had  taken  an  unfair 
advantage  of  Miss  Holbrook.  In  no  way  could 
he  justify  himself.  He  realized  that  he  had 
played  an  unworthy  part.  Gladly  would  he  have 
effaced  the  whole  scene  from  his  memory.  But 
that  he  was  unable  to  do,  for  it  came  back  to  him 
again  and  again,  each  time  seemingly  with  more 
distinctness  than  before.  Hence  he  was  sincerely 
glad  that  urgent  business  compelled  his  immedi- 


358        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

ate  return  to  London,  hoping  thus  to  liberate 
Miss  Holbrook  from  the  restraint  involved  by 
his  presence,  and  at  the  same  time  secure  for  him- 
self an  opportunity  to  escape  from  a  position 
daily  more  embarrassing. 

But  how  futile  were  his  efforts!  For  here  in 
the  same  carriage  was  Miriam  on  her  way  to 
London,  and  in  a  measure  under  his  care.  It 
seemed  like  destiny. 

Of  course  he  contrived  to  make  the  journey 
comparatively  easy,  but  railroad  travelling  on  the 
continent  in  the'  heat  and  dust  of  August  is  not 
an  unmixed  pleasure.  At  Calais  Mrs.  Holbrook 
wisely  retired  to  her  stateroom,  for  the  sail  to 
Dover,  though  short,  has  various  possibilities  of 
discomfort.  Miriam,  however,  remained  on  deck 
despite  the  rough  sea  and  the  heavy  sky,  which 
lowered  and  threatened  all  the  way  across.  In 
a  steamer-chair,  and  measurably  protected  against 
the  wind  and  spray,  she  seemed  to  enjoy  the 
churning,  restless  waters,  the  swift  motion  of 
the  ship,  and  even  the  sky,  though  so  sullen  and 
dangerous.  Occasionally  she  would  close  her  eyes, 
only  to  hear  more  intently  the  swish  of  the  waves 
beating  against  the  steamer,  or  the  rough  blasts 
which  at  times  sounded  in  the  funnel  like  a  giant's 
horn.  She  was  not  in  the  mood  for  speech,  at 
least  not  until,  when  within  a  short  distance  of 
the  English  coast,  she  took  Paul  Bedford's  arm 
for  a  brisk  promenade  on  the  upper  deck. 


A    DAY    AT    SEA  359 

"  There  is  surely  Viking  blood  in  my  veins," 
she  said,  as  they  looked  back  over  the  channel  in 
which  the  steamer's  tracks  were  sharply  defined. 
"  I  am  a  veritable  child  of  the  sea.  It  is  simply 
a  passion  with  me.  Of  course  I  enjoy  the  moun- 
tains, that  is,  after  a  fashion.  I  recognize  their 
sublimity,  and  at  times  they  strangely  impress 
me,  but  I  never  fell  in  love  with  a  mountain. 
Not  even  in  Switzerland  did  I  see  one  concern- 
ing which  I  would  care  to  use  my  leap-year  priv- 
ilege." 

"  The  average  mountain  is  not  unduly  respon- 
sive," Paul  replied,  as  he  rioted  the  color  tinge 
her  cheeks,  the  eager  flash  of  her  eyes,  and  the 
kindling  light  on  her  face.  "  But  don't  blame 
the  mountain.  It  is  a  solid,  substantial  affair, 
not  given  to  the  emotions  of  which  most  mortals 
are  capable." 

"  Exactly  where  it  differs  from  the  sea,"  she 
responded,  earnestly,  "  for  the  sea  is  almost 
human  in  its  moods  and  feelings.  Sometimes  it 
fairly  rages  with  passion,  a  mad,  mighty,  terrible 
rage,  as  though  stirred  to  its  depths  with  an  anger 
as  fierce  as  it  is  uncontrollable.  Then  again  it 
sobs  and  moans  so  plaintively  that  one  would 
think  it  had  a  soul,  and  that  soul  was  crying 
out  in  despair.  At  other  times  how  it  throws 
itself  on  the  beach  with  the  glee  and  frolic  of  a 
child !  Who  knows  but  I  was  a  Viking  centuries 
ago?" 


360       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Paul  glanced  keenly  at  the  eager,  sensitive  face 
which  unconsciously  had  reflected  the  changing 
moods  of  the  sea,  passing  from  anger  to  sorrow, 
and  from  sorrow  to  gladness,  just  as  the  waves 
caught  the  sunlight  or  the  shadows  that  fell  from 
the  sky.  Then  he  wondered  if  Miss  Holbrook 
had  ever  heard  Miss  Milltrum  propound  the 
theory  so  tenaciously  held  by  one  of  her  friends. 
Perhaps  she  divined  his  thought,  for  Miss  Hol- 
brook continued : 

"  You  are  not  shocked,  I  hope,  Mr.  Bedford, 
at  my  suggestion  of  having  been  a  Viking.  Se- 
riously, the  idea  of  a  former  life  has  often  oc- 
curred to  me.  But  I  seldom  refer  to  it.  Once 
when  the  conditions  were  suggestive,  and  desiring 
to  learn  his  views,  for  Miss  Milltrum  had  spoken 
several  times  of  her  friend,  I  mentioned  the  sub- 
ject to  Mr.  Milltrum,  and  told  him  of  -  Then 
she  paused,  and  flushed  uneasily,  suddenly  remem- 
bering Mr.  Bedford's  relation  to  that  conversa- 
tion. 

"  Mr.  Milltrum  rarely  allows  himself  to  leave 
the  ground,"  Paul  said,  pleasantly.  "  As  a  flying- 
machine  he  is  not  a  brilliant  success.  In  fact, 
he  has  more  foot  and  less  wing  than  even  the 
average  man,  and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal,  for 
the  average  man  is  of  the  earth  earthy." 

"  If  you  put  it  that  way,  there  can  be  only  one 
reply.  Mr.  Milltrum  is  a  very  definite  and  practi- 
cal man,  the  result  largely  of  his  business  life. 


A    DAY   AT    SEA  361 

Still  there  have  been  times  when  his  keen,  search- 
ing eyes  have  sought  for  a  break  or  cranny  in 
the  wall,  hoping  to  discover  something  on  the 
other  side. 

"  How  strangely  things  are  hidden  from  us ! 
There  is  really  nothing  in  life  but  mystery.  It 
begins  in  darkness,  and  it  ends  in  death.  So  far 
as  material  things  are  concerned,  we  are,  in  some 
respects,  better  off  than  my  Viking  ancestors,  but 
life  itself  is  even  less  understood  now  than  then. 
Sometimes  I  think  we  are  only  as  so  many  tele- 
graph-poles, upon  which  invisible  and  mysterious 
wires  are  strung,  utterly  ignorant,  however,  of  the 
messages  constantly  flashing  from  one  office  to 
another.  But,  excuse  me,  Mr.  Bedford,  I  don't 
often  let  myself  go  after  this  fashion.  The  sea, 
though,  is  really  responsible.  Mai  de  mer  with 
me  takes  this  form.  It  is  a  part  of  my  Viking 
heritage." 

Then  they  began  to  talk  of  other  things,  and 
ere  long  the  steamer  was  at  its  dock,  and  the 
travellers  on  their  way  to  London.  On  arriving 
at  the  Langham,  they  learned  that  Mr.  Holbrook 
had  experienced  a  slight  paralytic  shock,  and 
though  there  was  no  immediate  cause  for  alarm, 
his  wife  was  nervous  and  anxious.  Later  in  the 
day  she  said,  tearfully,  to  Mrs.  Holbrook  and 
Miriam : 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  feel  so  distressed  if  we 
were  at  home.  The  people  here  have  been  very 


362       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

kind,  and  Sir  Wallace  Russell,  who  has  been 
attending  Murray,  is,  I  am  sure,  as  skilful  as  any 
physician  in  New  York,  but  he  is  not  like  Doctor 
Malvern,  our  own  family  doctor.  And  Murray 
is  very  anxious  to  get  home.  Almost  the  first 
thing  he  said  when  he  could  speak  was  to  ask 
me  to  make  arrangements  for  sailing  on  the  ear- 
liest available  steamer.  But  the  steamers  are  all 
crowded.  I  can't  get  any  kind  of  accommodations 
until  late  in  September.  I  haven't  dared  to  tell 
Murray,  as  it  will  be  such  a  disappointment." 

"  But,  Bertha,  I  don't  see  how  you  could  pos- 
sibly take  Murray  home  as  he  is  now.  He  is 
almost  helpless.  Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  wait  for 
three  or  four  weeks?  We  will  stay  with  you, 
and  you  know  what  a  splendid  nurse  Miriam 
is."  ' 

"  Now  that  you  and  Miriam  are  here,  of  course 
I  feel  differently  about  staying.  But  Murray  is 
as  anxious  as  ever.  Not  an  hour  ago  he  was  ask- 
ing me  when  we  were  going  to  sail.  That  tele- 
gram which  came  a  few  minutes  since  was  from 
the  Cunard  office,  saying  that  the  room  which 
had  been  conditionally  promised  to  me  was  now 
definitely  engaged  by  the  party  to  whom  it  had 
been  first  assigned.  I  am  just  about  at  my  wit's 
end." 

And  the  dear  woman  looked  exactly  as  she 
felt,  which,  under  the  circumstances,  was  not  to 
be  wondered  at. 


A    DAY    AT    SEA  363 

"  Perhaps  Mr.  Bedford  could  help  you," 
Miriam  suggested. 

"Who  is  Mr.  Bedford?"  Mrs.  Murray  Hoi- 
brook  eagerly  inquired. 

"  Uncle  Murray,  I  am  sure,  knows  him.  He 
is  a  partner  of  Mr.  Milltrum." 

"Of  Milltrum  Brothers?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  is  he  in  London?  " 

"  He  came  with  us  from  Interlaken.  The 
Milltrums  are  there  now,"  Mrs.  Holbrook  an- 
swered. 

"  Where  can  I  see  him  ?  How  can  I  reach  him  ? 
Every  moment  is  of  importance.  Is  there  any 
way,  Miriam,  of  communicating  with  him  ? " 
Mrs.  Murray  Holbrook  was  evidently  resolved  to 
follow  up  the  possibility  suggested  by  Miriam. 

"  Mr.  Bedford,  I  believe,  has  rooms  in  this 
hotel.  I  am  positive  he  expects  to  be  here  for 
dinner.  Anyhow,  we  can  leave  a  message  at  the 
office." 

"  Yes,  but  the  steamer  offices  will  be  closed 
long  before  then.  And  that  means  another  day. 
I  don't  care  anything  about  myself,  but  I  know 
how  your  Uncle  Murray  feels.  I  almost  dread 
going  to  his  room,  for  he  is  sure  to  ask  me  about 
it.  Can't  we  do  anything  before  dinner?  No 
one  dines  here  until  eight  or  after." 

Seeing  that  her  aunt  was  in  such  distress,  Miss 
Holbrook  went  down-stairs,  and  ere  long  was  at 


364       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

the  telephone,  a  hotel  clerk  having  given  her  the 
London  address  of  Milltrum  Bros.  Fortunately, 
Paul  Bedford  was  in  the  office,  and  at  once  prom- 
ised his  assistance.  Then  he  added: 

"  Tell  Mrs.  Murray  Holbrook  to  have  no 
anxiety  whatever.  I  have  a  room  on  the  White 
Star  steamer  leaving  a  week  from  Wednesday. 
I  will  arrange  for  its  transfer  to  her.  I  may 
be  able  to  do  even  better,  but  cannot  say  now." 

When  Miss  Holbrook  returned  with  Paul's 
message,  her  aunt  immediately  went  to  the  room 
of  the  anxious  patient,  and  gladdened  his  heart 
by  telling  him  the  day  she  had  arranged  for  their 
leaving  London,  and  the  steamer  on  which  they 
expected  to  sail. 

In  a  few  days  Mr.  Murray  Holbrook  was  able 
to  leave  his  room,  and  Sir  Wallace  Russell 
pleasantly  remarked  one  morning  that  much  of 
the  improvement  in  his  patient  was  due  to  the 
hope  of  a  speedy  return  to  New  York. 

"  Next  to  the  Swiss,  the  Americans  suffer  most 
from  nostalgia,"  Sir  Wallace  said.  "  An  English- 
man will  go  to  Africa  or  India,  anywhere,  in  fact, 
and,  so  long  as  he  can  get  a  London  paper  once 
in  awhile,  or  see  a  redcoat  now  and  then,  he  is 
quite  contented,  but  an  American  is  never  happy 
unless  within  hailing  distance  of  New  York.  As 
I  remember  New  York,  —  I  was  there  two  or 
three  years  ago,  —  it  seemed  in  process  of  recon- 
struction, new  buildings  going  up,  old  buildings 


A    DAY    AT    SEA  365 

coming  down,  and  with  a  suggestion  of  digging 
in  most  of  the  streets.  But  I  suppose  everything 
is  settled  now.  How  is  it,  Mr.  Holbrook  ?  " 

The  idea  of  New  York  being  settled,  as  Sir 
Wallace  Russell  meant,  caused  Mr.  Holbrook  to 
smile. 

"  Come  over  next  year,  Sir  Wallace,"  he  said, 
cordially.  "  Make  us  a  visit.  Give  Mrs.  Hol- 
brook and  myself  a  chance  to  show  how  much 
we  appreciate  your  services.  You  have  been  very 
kind,  and  we  are  profoundly  grateful.  As  for 
New  York  being  settled,  the  probabilities  are  that 
the  buildings  which  were  going  up  when  you  were 
there  have  been  torn  down  long  since.  Three 
years  is  a  long  time  in  New  York.  But  come 
over,  Sir  Wallace/' 

For  a  native-born  American,  whose  forebears 
were  not  unacquainted  with  Plymouth  Rock,  Mr. 
Holbrook  was  surprisingly  fond  of  giving  Sir 
Wallace  Russell  everything  that  belonged  to  him 
by  way  of  title;  and  the  fact  that  a  baronet,  a 
physician  summoned  at  critical  times  to  Windsor, 
had  been  in  attendance  upon  her  husband,  was  by 
no  means  displeasing  to  Mrs.  Holbrook. 

Three  days  before  the  day  of  sailing  Mrs. 
Murray  Holbrook,  who  had  been  under  a  severe 
strain  for  some  time,  and  whose  endurance  for 
the  weeks  of  her  husband's  sickness  was  really 
surprising,  so  relaxed  nervously  that  Sir  Wallace 
Russell  insisted  that  she  should  remain  in  Lon- 


366       THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

don  for  several  weeks,  or  that  Mrs.  Holbrook  and 
Miriam  accompany  her  to  New  York. 

Miriam  was  not  prepared  for  this.  She  had  in- 
tended to  return  to  Switzerland  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, and  later  to  go  into  Italy,  remaining  for  the 
winter,  hoping  by  this  arrangement  to  make  per- 
manent the  decided  improvement  in  her  mother's 
health.  Besides,  she  was  aware  that  Mr.  Bedford 
expected  to  sail  on  the  same  ship  with  her  Uncle 
Murray  and  his  wife,  and,  while  she  would  not 
willingly  flinch  from  either  duty  or  obligation, 
under  the  circumstances  the  Continent  had  more 
attractions  than  an  ocean  steamer. 

But  Sir  Wallace  Russell  was  obdurate.  He 
would  give  no  consent  to  any  other  proposal. 

So  once  more  Paul  Bedford's  kindly  offices 
were  sought,  with  the  result  that  the  Holbrook 
contingent,  himself  included,  were  passengers  on 
the  White  Star  steamer  which  sailed  from  Liver- 
pool on  the  Wednesday  following. 

Much  to  Miriam's  surprise,  and  pleasure  as 
well,  the  Milltrums  were  also  on  board,  and,  as 
Mr.  Milltrum  had  frequently  met  Mr.  Murray 
Holbrook  in  New  York,  the  group  soon  resolved 
itself  into  a  family  party. 

True  to  her  Viking  ancestry,  Miss  Holbrook 
was  a  good  sailor;  most  of  her  time,  therefore, 
was  spent  on  deck;  neither  did  what  the  purser 
called  a  "  capful  of  wind  "  or  a  dash  of  "  Scotch 
mist  "  affect  her  perceptibly.  She  played  shuffle- 


A   DAY   AT    SEA  367 

board  with  Mr.  Milltrum,  promenaded  with  Paul, 
ventured  on  an  occasional  game  of  chess  with  her 
uncle,  conducted  afternoon  teas  with  the  Misses 
Milltrum,  and  managed  to  keep  busy  from  morn- 
ing to  night.  She  carefully  avoided  either  moon- 
light or  starlight  tete-a-tetes  with  Paul  Bedford, 
though,  to  do  him  justice,  he  seemed  equally 
careful.  No  one  looking  at  them,  when  tramping 
up  and  down  the  deck,  or  in  the  general  group, 
would  have  suspected  the  singular  relation  in 
which  they  stood  to  each  other;  and  when  alone 
they  never  once  referred  to  their  experience  in 
Switzerland.  By  mutual  consent  that  chapter 
was  sealed.  Once  Miriam  was  tempted  to  speak 
of  Mrs.  Saxby,  for  naturally  she  had  a  desire  to 
know  the  result  of  their  strange  meeting  in  In- 
terlaken.  Still  she  refrained  from  making  any 
inquiries,  lest  other  matters  might  be  involved. 
Fortunately,  the  Milltrums  had  not  heard  of  the 
Saxby  episode,  Doctor  Barrington  having  man- 
aged in  some  way  to  keep  it  within  the  circle 
of  those  particularly  interested. 

One  afternoon,  when  within  a  day  of  New 
York,  Miriam  reclined  contentedly  in  her 
steamer-chair,  enjoying  the  play  of  the  sunlight 
on  the  sea.  Her  mother  had  gone  below,  osten- 
sibly to  give  some  directions  to  their  maid  con- 
cerning the  packing  incident  to  the  coming 
morrow,  but  in  reality  to  have  a  quiet  hour  in 
the  seclusion  of  her  own  room,  a  custom  by  no 


368       THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

means  unusual  with  ladies  whose  fiftieth  birth- 
day is  an  affair  of  the  past.  Paul  sat  down 
in  Mrs.  Holbrook's  chair,  then  relieved  Miriam 
of  a  book  which  she  was  holding  in  her  hand, 
but  not  reading.  The  inscription  on  the  fly- 
leaf caught  his  eye,  and,  as  he  read  — 

"  To  Miriam ;  a  birthday  token  from  her 
mother,  August  3  "  — 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Holbrook,  but  does  this 
mean  your  birthday?  "  holding  up  the  book  open 
at  the  inscription. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  wondering  at  his  very 
evident  anxiety. 

"  Miriam  Saxby  was  born  on  that  day,"  he 
said,  in  a  strange,  hushed  voice,  looking  at  Miss 
Holbrook  as  he  spoke. 

For  some  time  nothing  was  said,  Miss  Hol- 
brook dreamily  regarding  the  sea,  Paul  holding 
^he  book  reverently  in  his  hand.  But  they  were 
both  thinking  intently,  and  both  marvelled  at  the 
strange  coincidence.  Finally,  after  a  long  pause, 
Miriam  inquired,  in  a  tone  barely  audible: 

"  In  what  year  was  Miss  Saxby  born  ?  " 

Paul  told  her. 

Starting  from  her  chair,  she  looked  at  him  in 
amazement. 

"  Mr.  Bedford,  Miss  Saxby  and  I  were  born 
at  the  same  time,  for  I  was  born  on  the  third  of 
August  in  the  year  that  you  have  named." 

Paul  had  not  time  to  express  his  amazement 


A    DAY    AT    SEA  369 

at  this  second  coincidence  concerning  the  birth- 
day of  the  two  Miriams,  for  just  then  Mr.  Mill- 
trum  appeared,  rubbing  his  hands  with  the  glee 
of  a  boy,  and  saying  that  a  pilot-boat  was 
sighted. 

"  Which  means  New  York  to-morrow  in  time 
for  early  dinner,  the  captain  says,"  he  added,  joy- 
ously. 

'  That  is,  provided  you  escape  the  custom- 
house," Maud  remarked,  who  at  that  moment  was 
worrying  over  the  "  declarations "  essential  to 
such  an  escape. 

"  Or  the  hospitalities  of  Ellis  Island,"  Miss 
Milltrum  suggested,  "  for  you  have  been  borrow- 
ing money  from  me  ever  since  we  left  Liverpool." 

"  Then  there  are  the  possibilities  of  quaran- 
tine," Maud  added. 

"  Or  coming  in  under  contract  as  a  skilful 
workman,  and  therefore  being  useful  to  the  coun- 
try," Miss  Milltrum  said,  as  she  looked  at  her 
uncle  warningly. 

"  No  trouble  on  that  score,  Peggy.  The  idea 
of  Uncle  Lewis  being  useful  to  the  country  puts 
a  burden  on  my  imagination  to  which  it  is  not 
equal." 

"  All  because  I  couldn't  marry  them  to  a  count 
or  a  duke,  Paul.  Goodness  knows  I  tried  hard 
enough.  I  think  I  might  have  done  something 
with  Peggy  if  Maud  hadn't  been  there,  or  with 
Maud  if  Peggy  had  kept  out  of  sight.  I  offered 


370        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

coal-mines,  oil-springs,  pork-yards,  patent  medi- 
cine, but  it  wasn't  any  use.  And  now  they  abuse 
me,  and  threaten  me  with  all  sorts  of  things.  I 
had  two  or  three  chances  to  dispose  of  Miss  Hoi- 
brook,  but  then  —  "  Before  he  could  finish,  Mr. 
Milltrum  was  led  off  a  willing  captive  by  his 
nieces,  for  he  was  never  quite  so  happy  as  when 
he  had  one  on  his  arm,  and  plenty  of  deck-room 
for  a  promenade. 

Then  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Murray  Holbrook  came, 
so  that  Miriam  and  Paul  had  no  opportunity  to 
resume,  their  conversation.  But  Miriam's  words 
came  back  to  him  again  and  again :  "  Miss  Saxby 
and  I  were  born  at  the  same  time,  for  I  was 
born  on  the  third  of  August  in  the  year  you  have 
named." 


O 


VII. 

AT  MRS.  BEDFORD'S  RECEPTION 


N  reaching  New  York,  Paul  Bedford  found 
business  matters  so  serious  and  complicated  as 
to  require  all  the  energy  he  possessed.  Desiring 
to  relieve  Mr.  Saxby  of  burdens  that  were  taxing 
him  severely,  with  Mr.  Milltrum's  consent,  the 
firm  of  Saxby  &  Co.  was  absorbed  by  Milltrum 
Bros.,  an  arrangement  which  meant  for  Paul 
more  care  and  embarrassment  than  he  had  antici- 
pated. For  some  time  Mr.  Saxby  had  not  been 
fortunate  in  his  investments.  His  right  hand  had 
lost  its  cunning.  His  mental  vision  was  not  so 
clear  as  in  former  days.  He  might  easily  have 
retired  from  business  with  a  fortune  ample  for 
all  his  needs,  but,  like  a  gambler  anxious  to  win 
back  the  money  he  had  lost,  he  kept  on  taking 
risks  from  which  wiser  men  turned  promptly 
away.  Then  the  inevitable  followed.  At  this  junc- 
ture Mr.  Crewe  applied  to  Paul  Bedford,  who  ar- 
ranged matters  with  such  delicacy  that  Mr.  Saxby 
never  once  suspected  how  deeply  he  was  in- 
volved. 

871 


372        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

All  this  took  place  months  before  Paul  went  to 
Europe  with  the  Milltrums,  and,  while  he  knew 
that  the  Saxby  interests  would  require  careful 
handling,  the  statement  given  him  on  his  return 
by  Mr.  Crewe  was  more  serious  than  he  had 
imagined. 

A  mysterious  but  powerful  combination  had 
been  formed  in  his  absence,  which  seemed  to 
direct  itself  chiefly  against  the  interests  of 
Milltrum  Bros.  Anything  that  Milltrum  Bros, 
favored,  this  combination  opposed.  If  the  one 
sold  up,  the  other  sold  down.  And,  like  most 
combinations,  it  was  unscrupulous.  Clerks  in  the 
office  of  Milltrum  Bros,  were  tampered  with,  and 
plans,  supposedly  confidential,  leaked  out  in  the 
strangest  way.  Who  was  behind  all  this  Paul 
could  not  even  surmise.  But  the  combination 
had  apparently  unlimited  capital,  and  during  the 
summer  gave  Mr.  Crewe  much  anxiety. 

Paul  therefore  devoted  himself  to  business  so 
closely  that  he  had  little  time  for  anything  else. 
Besides,  he  had  a  feeling  that  in  the  near  future 
a  terrible  battle  would  have  to  be  fought,  one  re- 
quiring his  entire  energy  and  resources. 

The  affairs  of  Milltrum  Bros,  evidently  gave 
Judith  small  concern,  for  soon  after  returning 
from  Newport  she  entered  upon  a  series  of  din- 
ners and  receptions  far  exceeding  anything  she 
had  attempted  since  coming  to  New  York. 

Judith  had  made  good  use  of  her  summer  in 


MRS.    BEDFORD'S    RECEPTION     373 

the  Llandoff  cottage.  And  her  friend  Mrs. 
Helmsley  had  proved  a  valuable  ally.  Mrs. 
Helmsley,  though  old  enough  to  serve  as  chap- 
eron, was  exceedingly  popular  with  the  younger 
set,  and  ere  long  Llandoff  Cottage  acquired  a 
distinction  which  could  not  be  ignored. 

Before  the  season  was  half  over  Judith  was 
invited  everywhere,  and  while  she  was  careful  to 
render  Csesar  his  full  due,  she  never  failed  to  see 
that  Mrs.  Caesar  had  no  cause  of  complaint. 
When  she  went  out  for  the  afternoon  drive,  men 
eagerly  sought  her  recognition,  women  smiled 
upon  her  most  graciously,  while  the  hosts  of 
young,  unmarried  people  of  both  sexes  gave  her 
unbounded  admiration. 

It  was  known,  of  course,  that  Milltrum  Bros, 
had  been  specially  cabled  from  Downing  Street, 
and  that  her  husband  had  gone  to  London  to 
consult  with  the  authorities  regarding  an  English 
loan.  This  explained  his  absence  from  Newport, 
more  satisfactorily,  perhaps,  than  the  absence  of 
some  other  husbands  could  be  explained. 

As  Judith  was  tactful,  discreet,  with  the  South- 
ern genius  for  hospitality,  never  once  instituting 
any  form  of  rivalry,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
when  the  season  closed  her  visiting-list  included 
families  within  whose  doors  no  Milltrum  had 
been  allowed  to  enter. 

Not  having  seen  or  heard  anything  more  of 
the  mysterious  Yoba,  Judith  naturally  concluded 


374        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

that  his  appearance  in  Nevada  was  an  accident 
with  which  she  had  no  part  whatever.  So  she 
dismissed  the  matter  from  her  mind. 

"  Doesn't  Judith  look  gloriously  handsome  to- 
night ? "  Miss  Milltrum  asked  Maud,  as  they 
stood  in  the  spacious  parlor  of  the  Bedford  man- 
sion, and  observed  the  ease  and  grace  with  which 
Mrs.  Bedford  received  her  guests. 

"  How  superbly  she  is  gowned,"  Maud  said, 
in  reply.  "  Judith  has  no  right  to  say  '  My  face 
is  my  fortune/  for  she  has  a  fortune  in  her  gown, 
another  in  her  figure,  and  still  another  in  her 
air.  Just  see  her  now  with  Lord  Paddington. 
One  would  think  she  had  been  brought  up  at 
Windsor.  There  is  Miriam  Holbrook !  Surpris- 
ing they  have  never  met  before.  What  a  contrast 
they  make !  " 

No  wonder  Maud  spoke  of  the  contrast  be- 
tween Judith  and  Miriam,  as  they  stood  for  a 
few  moments  regarding  each  other.  It  was  a 
meeting  of  the  rose  and  the  lily;  the  rose  a 
Jacqueminot,  rich,  deep,  passionate;  the  lily  an 
Easter  dawn,  graceful,  simple,  exquisite.  Judith 
regal,  imperious,  commanding;  her  eyes  flashing 
proudly;  her  lips  curving  haughtily;  every 
movement  the  embodiment  of  grace  and  power. 
Her  gown,  though  brilliant,  was  sufficiently  dark 
to  bring  into  splendid  relief  her  dazzling  neck 
and  shoulders,  while  the  diamonds  in  her  coils 
of  black,  shining  hair  sparkled  as  against  a  back- 


MRS.    BEDFORD'S    RECEPTION     375 

ground  of  sombre  velvet.  Miriam,  in  contrast, 
was  hardly  of  medium  height,  slight  of  form, 
quiet  of  bearing;  her  gown  was  quaint  in  its  sim- 
plicity, and  her  jewels,  unobtrusive  pearls,  were 
worn  less  for  effect  than  because  they  were  a 
recent  birthday  gift  from  her  mother. 

"  Mrs.  Bedford's  crushes  are  the  most  popular 
things  in  town,"  Bert  Vernon  said  to  Mr.  Mill- 
trum,  whom  he  found  in  the  passage  leading  to 
the  conservatory,  where  there  happened  to  be 
some  breathing-space.  "  Everybody  is  here." 

"  There  is  one  body  that  wouldn't  be  here  if 
its  nominal  owner  had  any  say  in  the  matter," 
Mr.  Milltrum  replied,  grimly.  "  Why  can't  we 
be  double-bodied,  as  guns  are  double-barrelled? 
Then  I  could  say  to  one  body,  —  the  one  capable 
of  every  form  of  fatigue,  that  can  stand  on  one 
foot  for  half  an  hour  at  a  time,  can  eat  anything, 
drink  anything,  say  anything,  lie  gracefully,  smile 
perpetually,  and  do  just  what  society  expects,  — 
you  go  out  with  Peggy  and  Maud.  Then  my 
other  body,  the  one  that  has  some  sense  in  it, 
could  remain  at  home,  or  find  some  amusement 
worthy  of  rational  beings.  Bert,  this  honestly  is 
worse  than  crossing  the  Gemmi.  Have  you  been 
here  long?  " 

"  Nearly  an  hour." 

"Want  to  go  home?" 

"Do  you?" 

"  Wanted  to  before  I  came." 


376        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

At  that  moment  Maud  appeared. 

"  I  have  been  looking  everywhere  for  you, 
Uncle  Lewis.  Madame  Dernage  is  going  to  sing. 
Don't  you  want  to  go  to  the  music-room  ?  " 

"  Never  wanted  anything  so  much  since  I  was 
born.  Where  is  Peggy  ?  She  is  over  there,  Bert. 
Bring  her  in.  Oh,  the  rapture  of  this  moment !  " 

"Hush!" 

"  Maud,  you  surprise  me.  For  one  glorious 
hour  I  have  stood  in  this  hall,  allowing  myself 
to  be  jostled  and  jammed,  pushed  and  pulled, 
walked  over  and  sat  on,  and  yet  outwardly  I 
have  not  committed  murder." 

"But,  uncle  —  " 

"  And  now  to  be  permitted  to  tear  and  trample 
my  way  into  the  music-room,  with  you  clinging 
tenderly  to  my  arm,  is  a  bliss  which  I  don't 
deserve.  But  I  am  not  selfish.  Bert,  poor  boy, 
would  have  gone  home  only  that  I  sent  him  after 
Peggy.  See  how  happy  he  looks!  And  there 
is  Clarence  Fillmore  smiling  like  a  basket  of  chips, 
persimmon  chips,  I  mean.  But,  seriously,  Maud, 
something  is  the  matter  with  Clarence.  He  looks 
as  if  he  had  seen  a  ghost.  Bless  my  soul,  if  he 
isn't  staring  at  Miss  Holbrook  as  though  she  had 
risen  from  the  dead !  " 

Clarence  Fillmore's  conduct  most  assuredly  jus- 
tified Mr.  Milltrum's  remark,  for  he  kept  looking 
at  Miriam  in  a  way  that  could  not  fail  to  attract 
attention.  His  eyes  followed  her  across  the  room. 


MRS.    BEDFORD'S    RECEPTION     377 

He  scanned  her  face  with  obvious  eagerness.  Not 
a  movement  or  expression  escaped  him.  Finally 
his  wife,  who  had  not  a  drop  of  jealous  blood  in 
her  veins,  nudged  him,  and  then  softly  whispered : 

"  Miss  Holbrook  is  very  attractive,  but  please 
don't  stare  at  her  so  unmercifully." 

"  Holbrook !  "  he  whispered  in  reply.  "  Why, 
Kitty,  I  could  have  sworn  it  was  Miriam  Saxby ! 
The  resemblance  is  simply  wonderful.  Even 
Mrs.  Saxby  would  be  deceived  by  it." 

Then  Kitty  remembered  her  voyage  on  the 
Zidonia,  when  Paul  Bedford  in  the  eagerness  of 
romantic  youth  told  her  of  Miss  Saxby.  And  she 
also  remembered  how  tragically  Paul's  romance 
had  ended,  for  Clarence  had  written  her  the  sad 
story. 

Just  how  no  one  could  tell,  but  it  soon  was 
whispered  around  that  Miss  Holbrook  strikingly 
resembled  the  Miriam  Saxby  of  former  days. 
Hence  before  Madame  Dernage  had  succeeded 
for  the  third  successive  time  in  climbing  the 
gamutic  ladder,  and  from  thence  diving  into 
waves  of  gleeful  sound,  many  of  Mrs.  Bedford's 
guests  were  regarding  Miriam  with  curious  and 
interested  eyes. 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  the  formalities  had 
measurably  relaxed,  two  of  the  younger  matrons, 
whose  voices  had  attained  a  fair  degree  of  sharp- 
ness, so  talked  the  matter  over  that  Judith  could 
not  but  overhear  their  conversation. 


378        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  I  never  saw  anything  like  it,"  one  of  them 
said.  "  I  could  hardly  believe  my  eyes.  When 
I  saw  her  standing  near  the  piano  I  almost 
screamed." 

"  Then  you  were  acquainted  with  Miss 
Saxby?"  the  other  asked. 

"  We  were  intimate  friends.  We  were  at  Vas- 
sar  together.  She  was  a  lovely  girl,  and  every 
one  just  adored  her." 

"  She  died  within  a  few  months  of  her  mar- 
riage, I  understand." 

"  Yes,  and  T  don't  wonder  that  Mr.  Bedford 
was  so  terribly  shaken  at  the  time.  We  all  pitied 
him,  for  he  was  simply  devoted  to  her." 

"  And  you  say  Miss  Holbrook  resembles 
her?" 

"  I  couldn't  tell  one  from  the  other." 

"  Mr.  Bedford  has  doubtless  observed  this  sin- 
gular resemblance." 

"  I  am  sure  he  has.     He  couldn't  help  it." 

"  There  are  certain  possibilities  —  " 

'"  Particularly  when  you  remember  that  his 
second  marriage  was  a  mere  business  affair. 
Every  one  knows  that." 

"  He  was  in  Europe  last  summer.  Mrs.  Bed- 
ford was  in  Newport.  Business,  of  course,"  and 
the  speaker  smiled  significantly. 

"  Most  of  his  time,  however,  in  Switzerland 
with  the  Milltrums.  Miss  Milltrum  and  Mrs. 
Holbrook  are  old  friends." 


MRS.    BEDFORD'S    RECEPTION     379 

"  So  the  Holbrooks  were  there  at  the  same 
time?" 

"  Yes ;  Mrs.  Arlington  met  the  whole  party 
one  evening  at  Interlaken." 

"  The  situation  is  interesting." 

"  Very." 

"  And  suggestive." 

"  Quite  so." 

Judith  had  no  intention  of  playing  the  eaves- 
dropper, but  she  could  not  move  away  from  where 
she  was  standing  without  betraying  her  presence 
to  the  youthful  matrons  who  had  so  frankly  dis- 
cussed the  situation. 

At  first  she  listened  indifferently,  then  with 
languid  attention,  but  finally  with  an  eager  desire 
to  catch  every  word.  There  was  also  a  corre- 
sponding change  in  her  feelings,  and  when  the 
conversation  closed  she  was  wrought  up  to  a 
pitch  of  intense  excitement. 

Judith  was  fully  aware  of  Paul's  devotion 
to  the  memory  of  Miriam  Saxby.  And  she  was 
equally  aware  that  the  matrons  had  spoken  the 
truth  when  they  referred  to  his  second  marriage 
as  "  a  mere  business  affair." 

But  it  had  never  occurred  to  her  that  a  second 
Miriam  might  arise,  to  whom  would  be  given 
the  love  now  spent  upon  the  dead.  For  the  dead 
Miriam  she  cared  nothing  whatever.  Hers  was 
not  a  nature  to  be  much  influenced  by  sentiment. 
That  Paul  should  frequently  visit  the  little  ceme- 


380        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

tery  at  Pelharn,  be  careful  of  the  flowers  on 
Miriam's  grave,  observe  her  birthday  in  a  way 
peculiar  to  himself,  and  give  manifest  proofs  of 
his  abiding  love,  did  not  affect  Judith  in  the 
least.  There  may,  possibly,  have  been  times  when 
she  smiled  at  these  things,  but  never  openly.  Once 
or  twice  she  had  seen  Paul  angry,  when  lightning 
flashed  from  his  eyes,  and  there  was  a  look  on 
his  face  the  memory  of  which  remained  with 
her.  So,  whatever  her  feelings  were  regarding 
Miriam  Saxby,  she  held  them  in  perfect  control. 
But  now  that  a  new  Miriam  had  come,  not  a 
ghost  nor  a  shadow,  but  a  woman  of  flesh  and 
blood,  of  power  and  beauty,  whose  social  rank 
was  equal  to  her  own,  and  with  whom  Paul  was 
already  on  terms  of  friendship,  it  meant  for 
Judith  a  condition  of  things  by  no  means  enjoy- 
able. For  the  first  time  since  her  marriage,  she 
entertained  the  feeling  of  jealousy.  It  was  a 
keen,  sharp  feeling,  entering  her  heart  like  an 
arrow,  where  it  remained  despite  her  smiling 
face  and  gracious  bearing.  All  at  once  she  awoke 
to  the  fact  that  Paul  Bedford  was  worth  fighting 
for,  and  that  she  would  not  surrender  him  with- 
out a  vigorous  struggle.  Her  Southern  blood 
was  aroused.  Her  pride  was  assailed.  The  ques- 
tion of  supremacy  had  been  raised.  The  gossipy 
matrons,  who  doubtless  represented  many  others, 
would  find  that  their  suggestive  hints  and  still 
more  significant  smiles  were  valueless. 


MRS.    BEDFORD'S    RECEPTION     381 

Going  across  the  parlor  to  where  Paul  was 
chatting  pleasantly  with  the  Milltrums,  she  laid 
her  hand  on  his  arm  with  a  more  tender  gesture 
than  she  was  wont,  and,  giving  the  group  one 
of  her  most  alluring  smiles,  said: 

"  When  are  you  coming,  Uncle  Lewis,  to  tell 
me  of  your  adventures  in  Switzerland?  From 
what  Paul  has  said  you  must  have  had  a  delightful 
time." 

"  I  shall  write  a  book,  Judith.  Such  expe- 
riences and  adventures  as  mine  should  not  be 
limited  to  a  family  circle.  So  behold  me  as  a 
potential  author." 

"  Will  your  book  be  published  by  subscription, 
or  on  the  instalment  plan  ?  " 

"  Maud,  somewhere  in  that  question  of  yours, 
curled  up  snugly,  is  a  base  insinuation.  And  I 
resent  it,  as  one  who  already  feels  the  splendid 
throes  of  authorship." 

"  I  cannot  vouch  for  the  throes,  but  the  slid- 
ings  and  falls  remain  precious  memories.  There 
were  times,  uncle,  when  I  sighed  for  a  ko- 
dak." 

"  No  doubt.  So  did  I.  Oftener  perhaps  than 
you  imagine.  The  female  form  divine  shows 
to  singular  advantage  when  scrambling  in  the 
Swiss  mountains.  I  have  seen  both  you  and 
Peggy  pose  with  remarkable  aggressiveness/ 
though  just  at  that  moment  my  ideal  of  womanly 
beauty  was  not  fully  realized." 


382        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"How  about  Miss  Holbrook?  She,  I  un- 
derstand, was  with  you  on  these  daring  expedi- 
tions." 

Judith  imagined  that  Paul's  arm  moved  slightly 
as  she  spoke,  but  her  face  lost  nothing  of  its 
pleasantness. 

"Only  for  Miss  Holbrook  we  should  now  be 
immured  in  some  Swiss  dungeon,  the  subjects 
of  profound  sorrow  to  our  friends.  Thanks  to 
Paul's  splendid  unfamiliarity  with  either  the  lan- 
guage or  the  habits  of  that  country,  we  were  in 
constant  peril,  from  which  she  just  as  constantly 
delivered  us." 

"  Which  means  that  she  was  —  " 

"  Guide,  interpreter,  mediator,  paymaster ;  in 
short,  without  her  our  lives  would  have  gone  out 
in  hopeless  misery." 

Mr.  Milltrum  spoke  lightly,  but  Judith  de- 
tected a  note  of  seriousness. 

"  Paul  is  going  South  next  week,"  she  said. 
"  Can  you  not  manage  to  give  us  an  evening 
before  he  goes?  Suppose  we  say  Monday. 
Wouldn't  that  suit  you,  Paul?  " 

All  this  time  she  kept  her  hand  on  Paul's  arm, 
glancing  into  his  face  now  and  then  with  a  smile 
for  which  some  men  would  have  faced  a  score 
of  drawn  swords.  One  of  her  sweetest  smiles 
was  given  when  the  gossipy  matrons,  who  had 
so  enlightened  her,  were  attentively  regarding 
the  little  group.  Judith  saw  them  and  smiled 


MRS.    BEDFORD'S    RECEPTION     383 

again,  and  so  winningly  that  Paul  smiled  in  re- 
turn. 

"  So  you  were  with  the  Milltrum  party,"  she 
said  to  Miss  Holbrook,  a  few  minutes  later,  who 
was  about  to  rejoin  her  mother  in  the  music- 
room. 

"  Not  exactly  with  them,  but  we  met  in  Paris, 
then  again  in  Switzerland,  and  returned  to  New 
York  on  the  same  steamer." 

"  Miss  Milltrum  mentioned  your  name  in  some 
of  her  letters,  and  Maud,  I  think,  spoke  of  a  trip 
you  all  made  over  the  Gemmi.  You  must  have 
enjoyed  it  immensely.  Mr.  Bedford  often  refers 
to  it." 

As  a  historian  Judith  was  more  picturesque 
than  accurate,  for  Paul  had  not  even  alluded  to 
the  Gemmi  episode. 

"  He  hopes  to  take  another  holiday  next  year," 
Judith  continued,  noting  carefully  the  look  on 
Miss  Holbrook's  face,  "  but  he  insists  on  my 
going  with  him.  He  says  that  moonrise  on  the 
Gemmi  is  the  sight  of  a  lifetime." 

Judith's  eyes,  though  apparently  glancing 
around  the  room,  were  closely  observing  Miss 
Holbrook,  who  could  not  forbear  a  slight  start 
at  this  allusion  to  the  Gemmi  moonrise.  Instantly 
there  flashed  upon  her  the  memory  of  that  night 
when  Paul  Bedford  told  her  his  story,  and  she 
marvelled  that  he  could  so  easily  contemplate 
another  visit  to  a  place  fraught  with  such  sig- 


384         THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

nificance.  She  did  not  dream  that  Judith  was 
merely  sending  out  her  arrows  at  a  venture.  That, 
however,  was  a  habit  with  Judith,  and  often  the 
arrows  struck  the  target  with  as  much  precision 
as  though  they  had  been  carefully  aimed. 

The  appearance  of  Bert  Vernon  at  that  moment 
enabled  Judith  to  leave  Miss  Holbrook  without 
waiting  for  her  reply,  so  smiling  most  graciously 
she  went  back  to  the  reception-room,  where  she 
remained  until  after  the  Holbrooks  had  gone 
home. 

As  virtue  is-  its  own  reward,  Judith  slept 
soundly  that  night,  her  head  hardly  touching  the 
pillow  before  she  was  in  the  land  of  dreams. 
Miriam  was  not  so  fortunate,  for  she  gave  up 
more  than  half  the  night  to  a  series  of  questions, 
each  one  more  bewildering  and  perplexing  than 
the  other. 

But  while  Judith  slept  Yoba  was  hiding  in  the 
shadows  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  watching 
the  house  as  a  sentinel  the  prison  where  a  traitor 
lies  condemned. 


VIII. 

FATHER  AUVERGNE  OF  ST.  JOHN'S 


W 


HEN  in  New  Orleans  Paul  was  reminded 
of  his  promise  to  Professor  Schuman,  which  un- 
der the  pressure  of  urgent  business  had  been 
forgotten.  Indeed,  the  matter  had  so  completely 
escaped  his  mind  that  he  had  never  even  men- 
tioned it  to  Judith.  This  he  now  regretted,  for, 
having  failed  to  get  all  the  particulars  from 
the  professor,  he  might  be  compelled  to  spend 
more  time  on  the  matter  than  he  could  well 
afford. 

Still,  he  was  tolerably  certain  that  the  village 
spoken  of  by  Professor  Schuman  contained  at 
most  three  or  four  churches,  and  that  to  search 
through  their  registers  need  not  involve  more 
than  one  afternoon. 

The  train  ride  of  fully  two  hours  was  by  no 
means  tedious,  for,  under  the  law  of  association, 
connecting  the  errand  on  which  he  was  bent  with 
the  persons  to  whom  it  was  related,  he  was  led 
back  to  that  day  on  the  Gemmi  Pass  when  he  met 
Professor  Schuman  and  his  much  frightened  wife. 
385 


386        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

He  could  not  forbear  a  smile  as  the  picture  came 
afresh  to  his  mind,  —  the  professor  mopping,  his 
wife  protesting,  the  horse  kicking,  and  the  guide 
silent  as  a  graven  image.  Other  pictures  followed 
in  rapid  succession,  and  before  the  brakeman 
called  out  the  station  where  a  stage  was  waiting 
for  the  train,  Paul  had  gone  over  most  of  his 
Swiss  experiences. 

Naturally  Miss  Holbrook  had  a  prominent  place 
in  this  review,  indeed,  to  tell  the  simple  truth,  he 
chiefly  recalled  the  scenes  in  which  she  had  a 
leading  part. 

Climbing  up  beside  the  stage-driver,  with  whom 
he  was  soon  on  easy  speaking  terms,  his  cigar-case 
effecting  the  introduction,  Paul  at  once  began  his 
inquiries. 

''  You  see  that  little  church,"  said  the  driver, 
pointing  with  his  whip  to  a  spire  just  visible  in 
the  distance,  "  that  is  St.  John's.  Father  Au- 
vergne  has  been  priest  of  this  parish  for  more  than 
twenty  years.  He  knows  every  family  in  the 
county.  You  will  find  him  at  home,  for  he  came 
in  from  New  Orleans  yesterday." 

In  due  time  Paul  was  at  the  parsonage,  where 
Father  Auvergne  gave  him  a  most  courteous 
greeting. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said  in  reply  to  Paul's  request. 
'  The  register  is  in  the  sacristy.  We  try  to  be 
careful  in  these  matters,  and  I  think  you  will  have 
no  trouble.  Permit  me  to  accompany  you." 


FATHER   AUVERGNE  387 

It  was  a  simple  little  church  to  which  Father 
Auvergne  led  the  way,  very  different  surely 
from  that  of  the  Madeleine  in  Paris,  or  St.  Pat- 
rick's in  New  York,  yet  Paul  was  strangely  im- 
pressed as  he  went  quietly  down  the  aisle  to  the 
sacristy.  His  keen,  well-trained  eyes  saw  how 
plain  most  of  the  appointments  were,  yet  every- 
thing was  invested  with  a  sacredness  which 
touched  him  deeply.  Paul  Bedford  was  not  in 
any  sense  a  religious  man.  He  had  well-defined 
notions  of  business  honor.  The  man  who  would 
cheat  or  steal,  or  evade  an  obligation  he  held 
in  contempt.  His  games  were  never  played  with 
marked  cards.  He  was  alert,  eager,  daring,  but 
he  was  not  treacherous  or  dishonest.  His  simple 
word  had  the  strength  of  a  bond,  and  even  his 
enemies  had  implicit  faith  in  his  integrity.  At 
heart,  however,  he  was  something  of  a  pagan, 
Sunday  having  for  him  only  the  significance  of 
a  holiday,  while  churches  had  really  less  value 
in  his  eyes  than  picture-galleries  or  places  of 
amusements.  He  was  not  irreverent  or  frivolous, 
simply  indifferent.  Under  ordinary  circumstances 
he  could  have  gone  to  the  sacristy  as  to  the  office 
of  a  town  hall  where  the  "  records  "  are  kept, 
but  he  now  felt  strangely  affected.  The  church 
seemed  to  have  an  atmosphere  of  prayer,  of 
penitence,  of  spiritual  desire,  and  had  he  been 
alone  and  given  way  to  the  emotions  of  that 
moment,  he  would  probably  have  knelt  on  the 


388        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

bare  floor,  and  reverently  bowed  his  head  toward 
the  altar  where  the  holy  candles  were  burning. 

On  entering  the  sacristy  Father  Auvergne  went 
to  a  little  safe  in  which  the  church  register 
was  kept,  and  at  once  turned  back  to  the  date 
Paul  had  mentioned. 

"  I  remember  Mr.  Carreau  very  well,"  the 
clergyman  said ;  "  he  was  a  brilliant  man  in  his 
way,  and  under  other  conditions  might  have  been 
successful,  but  he  lacked  ballast,  and  he  was 
easily  duped.  I  tried  to  reason  with  him  at  times, 
but  visionary  men  are  usually  very  obstinate. 
'  De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum. ' 

Paul  made  a  copy  of  the  entries  in  the  register, 
having  first  asked  permission  to  do  so,  referring 
also  to  his  meeting  Professor  Schuman  in  Swit- 
zerland. 

"  I  wonder  what  became  of  Victor  Carreau's 
daughter.  I  disapproved  strongly  of  her  mar- 
riage, being  positive  she  was  making  a  sad  mis- 
take, but  of  course  I  had  no  authority  to 
interfere." 

"  What  marriage?  "  Paul  asked,  so  thoroughly 
mystified  and  with  such  a  look  of  amazement 
that  Father  Auvergne  could  hardly  suppress  a 
smile. 

"  Judith's  marriage,  of  course  —  she  —  " 

"What  do  you  know  of  Judith's  marriage?" 
Paul  questioned,  more  mystified  than  ever. 

"  Not  very  much,  except  that  I  married  her  in 


FATHER    AUVERGNE  389 

this  room  about  three  months  before  her  father 
died." 

"  Father  Auvergne,  there  must  surely  be  some 
mistake !  Judith  Carreau  is  my  wife.  We  were 
married  in  New  York  three  years  ago." 

'  Then  you  either  married  a  widow,  or  she  —  " 

Instead  of  completing  the  sentence  Father 
Auvergne  went  to  the  little  desk  on  which  the 
church  register  was  lying,  and  turning  to  the 
marriage  record,  found  an  entry  on  which  he 
placed  his  finger,  and  then  looked  at  Paul. 

"  My  God !   can  this  be  true?  " 

Paul's  face  even  more  than  his  words  betrayed 
the  agitation  under  which  he  was  laboring. 

"  That  entry  is  in  my  own  hand,"  the  priest 
said  with  marked  solemnity. 

There  are  times  when  the  strongest  men  are 
so  taken  by  surprise  that  not  even  a  will  of  iron 
can  resist  the  shock  without  giving  some  sign. 
The  great  ship,  though  plunging  on  after  a  huge 
billow  has  flung  itself  against  her  massive  hull, 
quivers  from  stem  to  stern,  and  sometimes  so 
careens  that  for  the  moment  disaster  seems  in- 
evitable. Thus  it  was  with  Paul  Bedford. 
Though  hardened  by  conflicts  in  which  fortunes 
were  involved;  accustomed  through  years  of 
business  life  to  hold  himself  in  perfect  control, 
rarely  allowing  an  expression  on  his  face  or  a 
word  from  his  lips  save  such  as  accorded  with 
will ;  and  in  times  of  the  wildest  excitement  con- 


390        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

trolling  his  feelings  by  an  exercise  of  power 
almost  superhuman,  here  he  looked  as  one 
bereft  of  reason,  and  there  was  a  dangerous  glare 
in  his  eyes  as  he  stood  facing  Father  Auvergne. 

"And  you  married  Judith  to  Both  well?"  he 
asked,  when  he  was  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able 
to  control  his  voice. 

"  Yes." 

"In  this  room?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Three  months  before  her  father's  death  ?  " 

"  The  date  is  in  the  register,  Mr.  Bedford." 

"  But,  Father  Auvergne,  I  married  Judith  Car- 
reau.  I  rilled  out  the  certificate  required  by  the 
marriage  laws  of  New  York.  In  that  certificate 
her  name  was  given  as  Judith  Carreau,  and  as 
such  she  signed  it  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Milltrum 
and  one  of  his  nieces." 

"  And  did  the  certificate  have  no  mention  of 
any  previous  marriage?  " 

"  None  whatever.  On  the  contrary,  it  stated 
that  she  was  single." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  you,  Mr.  Bedford,  sin- 
cerely sorry.  What  motive  Judith  had  for  so 
deceiving  you  I  cannot  imagine.  Justice  to  you, 
and  indeed  justice  to  herself,  required  a  plain 
statement  of  the  facts  in  the  case.  Of  course 
Bothwell  was  dead  at  the  time  of  your  marriage. 
That  we  must  take  for  granted.  Judith  would 
not  have  dared  to  marry  you  had  he  been  living. 


FATHER   AUVERGNE  391 

Possibly  there  were  some  things  connected  with 
Bothwell  that  caused  her  to  avoid  any  associa- 
tion with  his  name.  Nevertheless,  Mr.  Bedford, 
she  should  have  been  frank  with  you.  My  sym- 
pathy may  not  have  any  value,  indeed  you  would 
be  justified  in  resenting  it,  still  I  must  express 
my  extreme  sorrow  at  this  most  unhappy  and 
mysterious  circumstance." 

There  was  a  tender  chord  in  Father  Auvergne's 
voice,  and  so  much  genuine  kindness  in  the  clasp 
of  his  hand,  that  Paul,  though  he  made  no  reply, 
could  but  feel  the  sympathy  of  the  aged  priest. 

After  a  long  pause,  during  which  Paul  stood 
at  the  little  desk  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  entry 
in  the  church  register,  going  over  each  item  in 
the  record,  every  moment  becoming  more  per- 
plexed, Father  Auvergne  said: 

"  The  stage  connecting  with  the  evening  train 
leaves  here  at  seven  o'clock.  May  I  ask  you  to 
accept  the  hospitality  of  the  parsonage  till  then, 
or  longer  if  you  can  remain.  Kindly  permit 
me  to  have  this  pleasure." 

Hardly  aware  of  what  he  was  doing,  Paul 
accompanied  the  priest  to  the  little  parsonage. 
Excusing  himself,  Father  Auvergne  went  back 
to  the  church  ostensibly  to  replace  the  register 
in  the  safe;  his  real  purpose,  however,  was  to 
leave  Paul  alone  for  a  little  while.  The  kindly 
priest  had  not  lived  in  vain.  Many  years  before 
he  had  learned  the  value  of  solitude.  When  a  man 


392        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

is  fiercely  battling  with  himself,  engaged  in  a 
conflict  that  calls  for  all  he  has  of  strength,  and 
on  the  issue  of  which  much  of  life  depends, 
the  clack  of  tongues,  however  well  intended,  only 
irritates  him  to  the  point  of  madness.  So  the 
priest  withdrew,  nor  did  he  return  for  nearly  an 
hour.  What  an  hour  that  was  to  Paul  Bedford ! 
What  questions  crossed  and  recrossed  his  mind! 
Why  had  Judith,  when  married  to  Bothwell,  kept 
her  marriage  such  a  secret,  shamefully  deceiving 
her  mother,  who  otherwise  would  not  have 
written  from  her  death-bed  to  Mr.  Milltrum? 
Why  had  she  allowed  Mr.  Milltrum  to  virtually 
adopt  her,  when  she  had  a  husband  abundantly 
able  to  provide  for  her  necessities?  More  stag- 
gering still,  why  had  she  married  again  under  her 
maiden  name,  never  once  hinting  at  the  ceremony 
performed  by  Father  Auvergne?  Because  she 
was  an  orphan  and  a  stranger,  without  a  legal 
protector,  he  had  yielded  to  Mr.  Milltrum's  de- 
sire. It  was  not  her  beauty,  but  her  friendlessness 
that  appealed  to  him.  He  had  no  love  to  offer 
her;  that  she  knew,  but  he  could  at  least  give 
her  the  protection  of  his  name,  and  install  her  as 
the  mistress  of  his  home.  These  were  the  condi- 
tions of  their  marriage,  and  while  not  expressed 
in  legal  or  definite  form,  they  were  perfectly  un- 
derstood by  Judith  as  well  as  himself.  Then,  as 
though  nothing  might  be  lacking  to  make  the 
condition  still  more  mjaddening,  he  remembered 


FATHER    AUVERGNE  393 

Bothwell's  murderous  attack  on  Mr.  Saxby,  his 
flight  to  Boston,  the  report  of  the  detectives 
who  were  sent  in  pursuit.  And  to  think  that 
Judith  was  actually  the  wife  of  such  a  man! 
But  the  question  that  thrust  itself  upon  him  and 
demanded  an  immediate  answer  was  one  for 
which  he  had  no  reply.  He  could  not  trust  him- 
self. He  was  too  angry  to  be  just.  Others  must 
decide  a  matter  so  serious  as  this.  That  he  had 
been  deceived,  grossly,  terribly,  was  very  evident 
to  him,  yet  what  could  he  say,  or  what  should  be 
done  under  circumstances  in  every  way  so  pecu- 
liar? 

When  Father  Auvergne  returned  he  found 
Paul  Bedford  standing  at  the  window  of  the 
little  parsonage,  his  face  set  like  iron,  and  an 
angry  light  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  have  been  praying  for  you,"  he  said,  quietly. 
"  Yours  is  a  heavy  cross,  my  son ;  one  from  which 
the  strongest  man  would  shrink,  and  one  which 
not  even  the  strongest  man  could  bear  alone.  So 
I  have  tried  to  ask  God  to  help  you." 

"  You  mean  that  I  must  go  on  to  the  end,  giv- 
ing my  name  to  a  woman  who  tricked  me  into 
a  marriage,  and  who  for  aught  I  know  had  a 
husband  living  at  the  time  ?  " 

Though  Paul  spoke  indignantly,  Father  Au- 
vergne was  in  no  wise  grieved.  He  had  pre- 
pared himself  to  meet  both  anger  and  opposition. 

"  I  am  not  surprised  at  your  sense  of  outrage, 


394        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Mr.  Bedford,"  he  said  as  quietly  as  before.  "  In 
that  feeling  I  sympathize,  but  there  are  times 
when  for  the  sake  of  others  great  surrenders  must 
be  made.  The  idea  of  the  cross  is  fundamental, 
not  only  to  religion  but  to  life  itself." 

"  But,  Father  Auvergne,  how  can  I  allow  a 
woman  to  retain  my  name  who  came  to  me  with 
a  lie  upon  her  lips ;  actually  perjuring  herself  at 
the  time  of  her  marriage ;  whose  life  prior  to  that 
marriage  was  a  mockery ;  and  whose  course  since 
then  has  been  one  continual  deception?  Surely 
the  cross  does'  not  mean  a  seal  of  approval  on 
treachery." 

"  Far  from  it.  And  you  may  be  sure  that 
Judith  has  carried  a  cross  infinitely  heavier  than 
any  have  imagined.  I  cannot  believe  that  know- 
ingly she  would  have  committed  the  crime  you 
suggest.  Perhaps,  as  I  said  in  the  sacristy,  there 
were  reasons  why  she  was  unwilling  to  have  her 
name  associated  with  that  of  Mr.  Bothwell.  We 
have  time,  and  I  have  left  word  that  we  are  not 
to  be  disturbed.  Tell  me  the  story  from  begin- 
ning to  end." 

It  was  a  strange  scene,  —  the  aged  priest  sitting 
in  his  chair  listening  intently;  Paul  Bedford  one 
time  standing  beside  the  priest's  chair,  the  next 
moment  walking  up  and  down  the  little  room, 
his  hands  behind  his  back,  his  head  bent  forward, 
his  face  pale  with  anger  or  flushed  with  excite- 
ment. But  he  told  the  story,  nor  was  he  inter- 


FATHER    AUVERGNE  395 

rupted  or  questioned,  Father  Auvergne  eagerly 
attentive  to  every  word. 

"  And  nothing  was  ever  heard  of  Bothwell  ?  " 
the  priest  asked,  when  Paul  had  concluded,  and 
was  once  more  at  the  window  moodily  looking 
out. 

"  Nothing." 

"  Nor  of  the  steamer  on  which  he  was  a  pas- 
senger? " 

"  Not  a  sign." 

"  The  detectives  traced  him  to  the  ship  ?  " 

"  Positively." 

"  Now,  under  the  circumstances,  what  could 
Judith  do?  Bothwell  evidently  had  some  motive 
for  keeping  the  marriage  a  secret.  How  he  in- 
fluenced Judith  in  the  first  instance  I  cannot  say, 
probably  through  some  hold  he  had  on  her 
father.  Mr.  Carreau  was  mixed  up  in  some  queer 
matters  at  one  time.  That  I  know,  but  the  secrets 
of  the  confessional  are  sacred.  Bothwell,  as  I 
remember  him,  was  rather  a  handsome  man,  and 
Judith  seeing  in  marriage  an  escape  from  poverty 
and  also  a  way  to  help  her  father,  consented  to 
the  arrangement.  All  this  is  mere  surmise,  yet 
I  have  reason  to  think  it  is  not  far  from  the  truth. 
Coming  back  now  to  you,  can  you  not  see  that 
when  Bothwell  was  drowned,  and  no  one  knew 
anything  of  her  marriage,  how  it  would  at  once 
occur  to  Judith  that  the  very  best  thing  was  to 
make  no  reference  to  it  whatever?  How  could 


396        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

she  openly  acknowledge  her  marriage  to  Bothwell 
after  having  lived  so  long  with  the  Misses  Mill- 
trum,  and  being  everywhere  introduced  by  them 
as  Miss  Carreau  ?  As  time  went  on  the  difficulty 
of  making  such  an  acknowledgment  greatly  in- 
creased. When  you  appeared  as  a  suitor,  what 
could  she  do  but  let  matters  take  their  course, 
trusting  that  the  secret  would  remain  undis- 
covered ?  " 

"  And  it  might  have  so  remained  but  for  the 
purest  accident.  A  chance  question  of  yours, 
Father  Auvergne  —  " 

"  No,  Mr.  Bedford,  it  was  not  accident.  Nor 
was  it  chance.  We  use  these  terms  because  they 
are  convenient,  but  in  a  world  so  small  as  this, 
and  in  which  God's  laws  are  supreme,  there  is 
neither  chance  nor  accident.  You  met  Professor 
Schuman  in  the  Alps;  his  wife  was  related  to 
Victor  Carreau.  An  entry  from  a  church  regis- 
ter is  essential.  That  you  promise  to  procure; 
in  rendering  that  service  you  come  here.  And 
here  you  discover  the  secret  Judith  has  kept 
hidden  in  her  own  breast.  All  links  in  the  chain 
of  God's  mysterious  providence,  a  providence 
which  invariably  works  out  His  divine  will." 

"  But  what  ami  I  to  do  ?" 

"  Keep  the  secret  which  you  have  providentially 
discovered." 

"How  can  I?" 

"  By  refusing  to  share  it  even  with  Judith." 


FATHER   AUVERGNE  397 

"  Father  Auvergne !  " 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  mean.  You  have 
given  me  your  confidence  which  I  shall  hold 
sacred.  Why  should  you  dismantle  your  home, 
publish  your  dishonor  to  the  world,  brand  a 
woman  with  infamy,  when  by  bearing  your  cross 
with  the  strength  and  dignity  of  a  man  you  can 
not  only  save  yourself  but  others  as  well?  The 
secret  is  safe  with  me.  So  also  is  the  record  of 
the  marriage.  No  one  has  access  to  the  register 
except  by  my  permission.  Let  everything  stand 
and  make  the  bravest,  manliest  fight  of  which 
you  are  capable.  And  may  God  bless  and  heal 
you,  Mr.  Bedford !  " 

Soon  the  stage  pulled  up  at  the  parsonage  gate, 
to  which  the  kindly  priest  accompanied  Paul,  and 
with  a  cordial  hand-clasp  and  a  final  benediction 
they  parted,  the  one  returning  to  his  little  church 
to  prepare  for  vespers,  the  other  going  back  to 
New  Orleans  with  a  secret  that  crushed  him  to 
the  earth. 


IX. 

AN  ATTACK  ON  MILLTRUM  BROTHERS 


O 


N  returning  to  his  hotel  Paul  was  given  a 
special  delivery  letter,  and  also  several  telegrams 
which  had  been  received  during  the  day.  The 
telegrams  he  opened  at  once,  as  some  matters  of 
importance  were  pending ;  the  letter  he  put  in  his 
pocket,  reserving  its  reading  for  the  quiet  of  his 
own  room.  When  he  had  disposed  of  the  busi- 
ness the  telegrams  involved  and  had  retired  to 
his  apartment,  he  was  not  in  the  mood  for  reading 
letters  special  or  otherwise.  Though  a  man  of 
immense  resources,  and  capable  of  enduring  the 
most  severe  strain,  his  interview  with  Father 
Auvergne  had  so  exhausted  him  that  he  flung 
himself  upon  the  lounge  in  sheer  stress  of  weari- 
ness. He  was  not  really  angry  with  Judith; 
better  for  her  if  he  had  been.  A  man,  no  matter 
how  fierce  his  wrath,  cools  down  in  time,  the  cool- 
ing process  not  infrequently  resulting  in  generous 
forgiveness.  But  Paul's  feelings  were  more  of 
the  nature  of  contempt.  He  felt  that  he  had  been 
tricked,  duped,  his  sympathies  played  upon,  and 


AN    ATTACK  399 

all  to  gratify  the  desires  of  a  foolish  and  unscru- 
pulous woman.  The  more  he  thought  over  Father 
Auvergne's  advice  the  less  became  his  wish  to 
follow  it.  He  could  not  imagine  himself  living 
again  under  the  same  roof  with  Judith.  To  meet 
her  daily,  to  see  her  preside  at  his  table,  to  share  in 
her  social  successes,  to  be  compelled  to  hear  con- 
gratulations on  her  receptions  and  gatherings,  to 
go  out  with  her  to  dinners  and  assemblies,  yet  all 
the  while  have  the  knowledge  of  her  treachery 
and  untruthfulness,  seemed  to  him  an  utter  im- 
possibility. The  mere  thought  of  it  was  intoler- 
able. Turning  restlessly  on  the  couch,  the  letter 
rustled  in  his  pocket,  and  taking  it  out  he  glanced 
carelessly  at  the  envelope.  The  writing  seemed 
familiar,  though  for  the  moment  he  was  uncer- 
tain. Opening  it,  he  read : 

"  MY  DEAR  PAUL  :  —  You  so  rarely  are 
troubled  with  letters  from  me,  that  I  am  certain 
this  one  will  be  something  of  a  surprise.  And 
you  will  be  even  more  surprised  when  you  learn 
that  I  intend  to  be  one  of  your  most  regular 
correspondents!  Let  me  frankly  confess  that  I 
have  not  treated  you  as  I  should  have  done.  I 
have  been  remiss  in  many  ways.  I  am  very  sorry 
that  I  went  to  Newport  last  summer  instead  of 
going  to  Europe  with  you  as  I  had  promised. 
And  I  am  just  as  sorry  for  many  other  things. 
Won't  you  please  forgive  me? 


400        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  There  is  no  need  to  remind  you  of  the  singu- 
lar conditions  relating  to  our  marriage.  You 
were  very  frank  with  me  then,  and  I  understood 
perfectly  the  nature  of  our  mutual  obligations. 
But,  Paul,  during  the  years  of  our  married  life 
I  have  learned  to  love  you,  to  love  you  with  all 
my  soul,  and  while  I  do  not  ask  that  you  abate 
anything  of  your  affection  for  the  Miriam  of  your 
early  life,  may  I  hope  sometime  to  have  a  little 
place  of  my  own  in  your  kindly,  generous  heart? 
I  will  try  to  be  worthy  of  it,  Paul.  I  am  really 
hungry  for  your  love.  My  life  has  never  been 
a  happy  one,  far  from  it,  though  thanks  to  you 
it  has  been  happier  for  the  past  few  years  than 
ever  before.  If  you  knew  everything  you  would 
pity  me;  but  why  refer  to  things  so  unpleas- 
ant? 

"  This  isn't  leap  year,  Paul,  but  I  am  going  to 
make  a  proposal,  nevertheless,  which  is  that  we 
begin  all  over  again,  only  this  time,  instead  of 
our  marriage  being  an  affair  of  business  and  settle- 
ments, let  us  make  it  one  of  real  affection.  What 
say  you? 

"  Uncle  Lewis  says  you  are  likely  to  be  detained 
from  home  at  least  two  weeks  longer.  Send  me 
a  telegram,  Paul,  and  I  will  be  on  my  way  to 
meet  you  within  an  hour  after  receiving  it. 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  Miss  Holbrook 
is  likely  to  remain  permanently  in  this  city.  There 
was  a  possibility  of  her  going  to  Boston,  the 


AN    ATTACK  401 

Vernons  having  large  interests  there,  but  Bert 
has  decided  to  live  in  New  York.  The  engage- 
ment has  not  been  formally  announced,  but  it  is 
generally  understood. 

"  I  am  not  much  of  a  gossip,  but  this  little 
item  I  know  will  interest  you. 

"  I  have  made  a  sort  of  calculation  as  to  the 
time  this  letter  will  reach  you,  and  from  that 
hour  will  look  impatiently  for  a  telegram. 

"  Send  one,  Paul,  please  do,  for  I  am  so  eager 
to  see  you. 

"  JUDITH." 

With  the  exception  of  the  paragraph  concern- 
ing Miss  Holbrook,  Judith  wrote  out  of  her  heart. 
She  was  thoroughly  sincere  in  this  expression 
of  her  love  for  Paul.  Ever  since  that  night  when 
she  overheard  the  conversation  of  the  two 
matrons,  her  one  desire  was  that  Paul  might 
love  her  as  she  was  learning  to  love  him.  And 
just  as  in  the  springtime,  when  the  iron  hand 
of  frost  no  longer  grips  the  earth,  the  pent-up 
forces  held  in  such  terrible  restraint  leap  forth  to 
meet  the  waiting  sun,  so  Judith's  love  for  Paul 
burst  forth  as  a  mighty,  splendid  flame. 
Hers  was  no  schoolgirl  sentiment;  no  silly,  lisp- 
ing affectation ;  no  summer  night  romance,  fleet- 
ing as  moonlight  on  the  sea.  It  was  a  consuming 
passion,  a  fire  which  on  the  altar  of  her  heart 
burned  more  intensely  as  the  days  went  by. 


402         THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

In  this  particular  her  letter  was  honest,  and 
Paul  was  constrained  to  admit  the  sincerity  em- 
bodied in  every  word. 

But  there  was  no  foundation  for  the  reference 
to  Miss  Holbrook.  That  was  a  bit  of  imagina- 
tion, and  written  for  a  purpose. 

This  Paul  did  not  know;  the  paragraph  there- 
fore came  upon  him  as  a  bolt  from  the  blue.  And 
just  as  Miriam  wondered  that  he  could  speak  so 
lightly  to  Judith  of  moonrise  on  the  Gemmi,  and 
insist  that  she  go  with  him  on  his  next  year's 
trip,  so  he  woridered  that  Miriam  could  become 
engaged  to  Bert  Vernon,  and  with  such  com- 
placency accept  him  as  her  future  husband. 

That  was  surely  a  bitter  night  for  Paul  Bed- 
ford, the  heaviest,  the  strangest  he  had  ever 
known.  He  never  once  thought  of  sleep.  He 
sat  by  the  window  and  looked  out,  one  time  at 
the  sky  where  the  moon  was  struggling  with 
heavy,  threatening  clouds,  and  another  time  on 
the  streets,  now  so  still  after  the  strife  and  tumult 
of  the  day.  More  than  once  the  words  of  Father 
Auvergne  came  back  to  him : 

"  Yours  is  a  heavy  cross ;  one  from  which  the 
strongest  man  would  shrink;  and  one  which  not 
even  the  strongest  man  could  bear  alone." 

The  morning  found  him  in  the  same  conflict  of 
emotions.  To  openly  repudiate  Judith  involved 
an  explanation  to  Mr.  Milltrum,  which  would 
distress  and  humiliate  him  beyond  measure.  Yet 


AN    ATTACK  403 

when  he  thought  of  so  far  accepting  the  counsel 
of  Father  Auvergne  as  to  guard  Judith's  secret, 
he  remembered  that  her  letter  demanded  far  more 
than  that  from  him.  She  was  pleading  for  love, 
while  he  was  struggling  against  hate!  She  was 
thinking  of  a  honeymoon,  and  he  was  planning 
for  a  separation!  Poor  Judith!  She  wanted  to 
begin  life,  real  life,  with  Paul,  while  Paul,  per- 
haps poorer  and  more  to  be  pitied,  would  rather 
have  died  than  enter  upon  such  a  relation. 

At  breakfast,  when  looking  over  his  mail,  a 
cipher  telegram  was  brought  in.  After  reading 
it  Paul  immediately  sent  for  a  time-table,  and, 
finding  that  a  train  would  soon  leave  for  the 
North,  at  once  decided  to  take  it.  Before  starting 
he  sent  a  telegram  to  Judith : 

"  Thanks  for  letter.  Am  on  my  way  home. 
Will  see  you  in  a  few  days. 

"  PAUL." 

He  also  sent  a  long  cipher  despatch  in  reply 
to  the  one  received,  and  addressed  it  to  Mr. 
Crewe.  Though  pressed  for  time,  he  did  not  fail 
to  write  a  brief  note  of  thanks  to  Father  Au- 
vergne, enclosing  with  it  a  bank  draft,  which 
he  asked  the  priest  to  distribute  among  the  poor 
of  his  parish.  At  noon  he  was  a  hundred  miles 
distant  from  New  Orleans,  on  his  way  to  fight 
the  battle  of  his  life. 


404        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

As  Mr.  Neumarck  sits  in  his  chair  in  the 
Sembrada,  he  looks  exactly  as  on  the  day  Judith 
called  for  the  jewel-casket.  His  face  is  as  sharp, 
his  lips  are  as  thin,  his  eyes  are  as  bright,  and 
his  expression  as  cruel  as  when  he  pierced  her 
with  a  look,  or  smiled  after  her  with  significance. 
In  an  easy  chair  sits  another  man,  younger,  of 
heavier  build,  with  large,  baleful  eyes,  his  face 
almost  hidden  under  thick  black  whiskers.  It  is 
long  after  midnight,  yet  both  men  are  full  of 
eagerness,  and  seem  ready  for  a  protracted  ses- 
sion. 

"  So  your  name  is  Simlick.  Henry  Simlick  ?  " 
Mr.  Neumarck  asked,  suggestively. 

Simlick  smiled. 

"  A  mine  owner  in  Nevada  who  has  come 
to  make  some  investments  in  New  York  ?  " 

"  That  covers  the  case." 

"  And  also  to  pay  off  some  obligations  of  a 
strictly  personal  nature  ?  " 

"  Precisely." 

"  Which  obligations  include  some  others  not 
quite  so  personal  ?  " 

Simlick's  white  teeth  gleamed  under  his  thick 
mustache  by  way  of  reply. 

"  And  as  an  instalment  on  these  obligations 
you  have  been  paying  some  attention  to  certain 
interests  once  owned  by  a  Mr.  Saxby,  but  now 
controlled  by  a  firm  known  as  Milltrum  Broth- 
ers?" 


AN    ATTACK  405 

'*  Yes,  I  have  made  a  beginning." 
"  And  your  plan  is  to  lead  the  parties  named 
to  the  edge  of  one  of  your  silver  mines,  and  at 
the  proper  time  allow  them  to  fall  in,  while  you 
stand  at  the  pit  m|outh  and  watch  them  reach  the 
bottom  ?  " 

"  You  evidently  understand  my  purpose." 
"  The  process  is  likely  to  be  expensive." 
"  I  am  prepared  for  that." 
"  And  it  may  take  some  time." 
"  I  have  been  planning  it  for  years." 
"  Milltrum  Brothers  will  make  a  hard  fight." 
"  The  harder  the  better." 
"  Other  men  have  tried  and  failed." 
"  I  won't  fail." 
"Why?" 

"  Other  men  fought  simply  for  money,  and  in 
time  money  buys  money,  so  they  compromise  and 
one  gives  way  to  the  other.  With  me  it  is  a 
fight  to  the  death.  For  Saxby  I  care  nothing, 
though  it  was  through  his  infernal  trickery  I 
was  driven  from  New  York." 

"  A  good  thing  for  you,  nevertheless." 
"  Yes,  but  I  owe  him  no  thanks.  He  set  the 
police  on  me,  and,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  steam- 
boat business,  I  would  have  been  taken  in  Port- 
land. Still,  Saxby  doesn't  trouble  me.  I  am 
after  higher  game.  Saxby  acted  like  a  fool  last 
year,  and  got  himself  all  tangled  up.  Paul  Bed- 
ford in  some  way  so  influenced  old  Milltrum 


406        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

that  he  consented  to  wipe  out  an  ugly  score  he 
had  with  Saxby,  and  allowed  the  concern  to  be 
absorbed  with  Milltrum  Brothers.  To  save  Sax- 
by's  credit,  Bedford  has  had  to  take  on  as  heavy 
a  load  as  the  horse  will  draw.  That  I  know.  I 
intend  to  add  to  that  load,  and  make  the  horse 
drop  in  his  tracks." 

"  You  are  warmly  attached  to  Mr.  Bedford." 

"  Very.  I  have  reason  to  be.  When  I  learned 
that  he  was  coming  to  Nevada,  I  arranged  a 
little  trip  for  him  among  the  hills  with  the 
idea  —  " 

"  Of  his  remaining  permanently  in  Nevada  ?  " 

"  Possibly." 

"  And  of  his  bride  returning  home  a  sorrowing 
widow  ?  " 

"  If  I  had  once  suspected  that  Judith  was  the 
bride  over  whose  beauty  the  people  out  there 
went  raving  mad,  let  me  tell  you  Paul  Bedford 
would  have  had  a  very  different  reception.  But 
I  never  imagined  such  a  thing.  My  revenge,  how- 
ever, will  lose  nothing  by  delay.  There  will  be 
just  that  much  more." 

"  Have  you  thought  how  all  this  will  affect 
Judith?" 

"  Oh,  yes !  Judith  hasn't  been  left  out  of  the 
calculation.  I  intend  to  pay  her  handsomely. 
The  fishes  hadn't  well  started  on  their  nibbling 
at  my  supposed  body  before  she  was  over  here 
for  the  jewel-casket.  She  wanted  the  jewels  fast 


AN  ATTACK  407 

enough,  but  she  was  more  anxious  about  the 
marriage  certificate,  which,  I  am  sure,  went  into 
flames  as  soon  as  she  got  to  her  room.  Then 
within  a  few  months  of  my  supposed  death  she 
married  Paul  Bedford,  actually  using  her  maiden 
name." 

"  Rather  a  dangerous  thing  to  do." 

"  Particularly  when  it  is  found  out,"  and  once 
more  the  white  teeth  gleamed  and  the  eyes  shot 
fire. 

"  You  have  arranged  an  attractive  pro- 
gramme." 

"  And  every  number  on  it  will  be  given." 

"  I  would  like  to  share  in  this  entertainment 
of  yours.  You  are  not  the  only  one  who  feels 
the  burden  of  certain  obligations.  Bedford  found 
out  somehow  that  Cranburg  was  only  a  dummy, 
and  that  the  concern  was  mine.  Old  Milltrum 
put  in  his  oar,  and  fully  a  score  of  notes  came 
back  on  my  hands,  young  Vernon's,  —  you  re- 
member him,  of  course,  —  and  Tom  Shirland's, 
and  others  as  well.  I  just  managed  to  squeak  out. 
But  the  whole  thing  had  to  go." 

"  Cranburg's  was  a  paying  concern  in  my 
time." 

"  And  then  what  did  that  meddling,  platter- 
faced  fool,  Clarence  Fillmore,  who  is  everlastingly 
poking  about  in  his  yacht,  do,  but  run  across  the 
Vampire  once  or  twice,  and  because  he  didn't 
like  the  looks  of  things  he  reported  to  the  Inland 


408        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Revenue,  and  since  then  we  haven't  dared  to 
move  her  from  the  dock." 

"  What  about  my  old  place  on  Burling  Slip  ?  " 

"  Nothing  but  a  junk-shop.  I  have  to  keep  it 
open  and  make  a  pretence  of  doing  something, 
but  the  real  business  is  gone." 

"  So  you  have  a  few  little  accounts  to  settle?  " 

"  Just  a  few,  and  I  thought  we  might  go  in 
together.  Between  us,  I  think  we  could  manage 
to  put  up  something  of  a  fight.  I  have  a  trifle 
in  the  savings-bank,"  here  Mr.  Neumarck  smiled 
sardonically,  ""which  I  am  willing  to  invest  in 
this  business." 

The  agreement  was  made  there  and  then,  and 
from  that  hour  each  man  gave  himself  unreserv- 
edly to  the  task  of  bankrupting  the  firm  of  Mill- 
trum  Bros. 

This  was  the  mysterious  combination  whose 
movements  during  the  summer  had  given  Mr. 
Crewe  much  trouble,  and  whose  attacks  of  late 
had  become  so  serious  that  he  was  forced  to  tele- 
graph for  Paul  Bedford. 

Paul's  journey  home  was  anything  but  pleas- 
ant. He  understood  thoroughly  all  that  Mr. 
Crewe's  telegrams  implied.  For  months  he  had 
known  that  Mr.  Saxby's  interests  would  be  a 
heavy  burden,  but  that  knowledge  he  had  kept 
to  himself,  quietly  meeting  such  obligations  as 
matured,  and  preparing  for  others  that  were  cer- 
tain to  come.  In  what  way  the  secrets  of  his 


AN  ATTACK  409 

private  office  had  been  revealed  baffled  him  com- 
pletely. And  the  results  were  serious.  Claims 
poured  in  upon  him.  Almost  every  day  large 
demands  were  made.  Sometimes  he  was  positive 
that  Mr.  Saxby's  name  had  been  used  without 
warrant,  but,  as  he  was  still  in  Europe,  and  prac- 
tically unfit  for  business,  it  seemed  impossible  to 
secure  any  definite  statement.  Neither  could  he 
speak  of  these  matters  to  Mr.  Milltrum,  for  many 
years  before,  when  Mr.  Saxby  was  in  the  pleni- 
tude of  his  strength,  and  Mr.  Milltrum  sadly  in 
need  of  help,  his  application  was  not  only  denied, 
but  spurned  so  contemptuously  that  a  bitter  feud 
was  the  result.  Paul  therefore  had  great  difficulty 
in  persuading  Mr.  Milltrum  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  the  affairs  of  Saxby  &  Co. 

"  Unless  I  am  very  much  mistaken,"  he  said, 
"  you  will  find  a  nice  mess.  He  has  been  playing 
ducks  and  drakes  for  over  a  year.  I  can't  imagine 
what  possessed  him.  He  is  in  a  score  of  things, 
any  one  of  them  enough  to  send  him  to  the  dis- 
count mill.  Better  let  him  go  under,  Paul." 

"  But  he  is  Miriam's  father.  For  her  sake  I 
must  help  him." 

"  True,  and  I  don't  blame  you,  but  remember 
this  is  your  affair,  not  mine." 

And  Paul  did  remember,  so  the  whole  burden 
came  on  him. 

But  far  more  than  any  business  complication 
was  he  troubled  concerning  Judith.  As  the  ex- 


410        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

press  rolled  along,  every  hour  bringing  him  that 
much  nearer  to  New  York,  the  question  came  up 
again  and  again.  A  public  disavowal  he  dismissed 
instantly.  He  had  not  forgotten  that  Judith  was 
his  kinswoman,  and  that  she  was  the  daughter  of 
Kate  Dumont,  once  the  promised  wife  of  Mr. 
Milltrumi.  In  fact,  he  had  forgotten  nothing  that 
would  inure  to  her  advantage,  for  Paul  was  in- 
herently just.  But  there  was  that  entry  in  the 
church  register.  He  could  see  the  deep,  black 
writing,  every  item  given  with  a  distinctness  that 
haunted  him. 

He  tried  to  read,  but  neither  book  nor  paper 
had  any  interest  for  him.  He  went  to  the  smok- 
ing-compartment,  only  to  find  himself  out  of  gear 
with  the  genial,  story-telling  company  assembled 
there.  Usually  temperate,  when  in  the  dining-car 
he  drank  heavily  with  his  dinner,  hoping  the  wine 
would  dull  and  deaden  him  after  a  time,  but  it  was 
of  no  avail.  Finally  he  tormented  himself  with 
questionings  as  to  Bothwell's  death,  wondering 
if  he  had  been  a  passenger  on  the  Portland  boat. 
Every  possible  element  of  disturbance  came  to 
his  mind  on  that  ride  from  New  Orleans,  and  he 
gave  a  sigh  of  relief  as  the  train  slowed  up  at 
the  depot  in  Jersey  City. 

Going  to  the  office,  he  spent  some  hours  in 
consultation  with  Mr.  Crewe,  an  interview  in 
which  Mr.  Walters,  the  former  secretary  of  Mr. 
Saxby,  had  no  part,  much  to  his  surprise  and 


AN    ATTACK  411 

annoyance.  That  was  not  a  pleasant  day  for  Mr. 
Walters,  for  when  Mr.  Crewe  went  out  from 
Paul's  private  office,  it  was  with  instructions  to 
dismiss  him  instantly.  Some  papers  found  on 
his  desk  were  so  plainly  intended  for  the  mys- 
terious combination  that  the  question  of  leakage 
was  immediately  solved. 

Then  Paul  went  home.  Of  course  the  clerks 
envied  him  as  he  stepped  into  the  carriage  which 
was  waiting  at  the  office  door.  And  other  men, 
not  clerks,  looked  after  him  admiringly  as  the 
carriage  turned  the  corner  at  the  Sub-Treasury. 
Why  not  ?  Had  he  not  everything  to  excite  both 
envy  and  admiration  ?  Wealth  unlimited,  a  rarely 
beautiful  woman  for  a  wife,  a  home  in  the  most 
exclusive  section  of  the  city,  these  were  all  his; 
and  yet  he  envied  the  light-hearted  newsboys  who 
jostled  each  other  on  the  streets  through  which 
he  passed! 


N: 


X. 

HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 


EVER  did  a  woman  look  more  alluring  or 
attractive  than  Judith  the  evening  Paul  was  ex- 
pected home  from  the  South.  To  do  him  honor, 
and  as  a  proof  of  her  devotion,  she  had  sent  an 
excuse  to  Mrs.  Helmsley,  who  was  giving  a  din- 
ner-party that  evening  to  which  Lord  Padding- 
ton,  Count  Novello,  and  sundry  other  notables 
had  been  invited.  It  must  be  confessed  that  Mrs. 
Helmsley  did  not  accept  Judith's  regrets  with 
very  good  grace,  for  she  had  counted  on  her 
assistance  in  making  the  evening  one  of  unusual 
brilliance.  She  even  went  so  far  as  to  write  an 
urgent  note  to  Judith,  begging  of  her  to  come, 
if  for  only  an  hour,  as  otherwise  a  number  of  her 
guests  would  be  quite  disappointed.  But  Judith 
was  not  seriously  concerned  for  either  Mrs. 
Helmsley  or  the  guests  who  were  bidden  to  her 
dinner.  A  much  larger  matter  occupied  her  mind. 
Her  thought  was  Paul;  how  to  win  him  to  her- 
self, to  make  him  her  own,  to  be  his  wife,  not  in 
name  only,  but  in  the  deep,  splendid  significance 
412 


HUSBAND    AND    WIFE  418 

of  that  word,  and,  having  once  gained  his  love, 
hold  it  with  a  fervor  which  nothing  could  abate. 
She  selected  one  of  her  most  becoming  gowns,  of 
a  color  of  which  she  had  heard  Paul  speak  approv- 
ingly, and  so  arrayed  herself  that  her  beauty  was 
well-nigh  overwhelming.  Usually  she  came  down- 
stairs just  before  the  formal  dinner  announce- 
ment, but  this  evening,  instead  of  going  to  the 
parlor,  she  went  to  the  reception-room,  with 
the  hope  of  seeing  Paul  the  moment  he  came 
in. 

Paul  had  tried  to  prepare  himself  for  this  meet- 
ing. He  knew  it  would  be  a  severe  ordeal,  for, 
naturally,  Judith  would  expect  some  response  to 
the  letter  his  telegram  had  acknowledged.  Dur- 
ing the  day,  one  of  the  busiest  and  most  exciting 
he  had  ever  known,  he  had  been  troubled  exceed- 
ingly with  questions  concerning  Judith,  and  how 
best  to  meet  the  new  condition  of  things.  But 
just  as  he  was  leaving  the  office  Mr.  Milltrum 
came  in,  hearty  and  cheery  as  ever,  though  he 
knew  that  Milltrum  Bros,  was  in  the  thick  of  a 
tremendous  battle. 

"  I  am  going  up  with  you,"  he  said,  addressing 
Paul.  "  Judith  has  arranged  a  fatted  calf  festi- 
val, in  which  I  am  to  have  a  share.  Peggy  and 
Maud  are  there  now.  Meantime,  we  have  a  few 
minutes  to  spare,  so  we  can  compare  notes  by 
the  way.  Have  you  found  out  anything  about 
our  friends  the  enemy  ?  " 


414        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Not  much ;  practically  nothing,  except  that 
they  have,  apparently,  plenty  of  money." 

"  And  they  are  touching  us  on  the  raw  ?  " 

"  Slightly." 

"  So  far  nothing  very  serious?  " 

"  No;  but  they  bribed  Walters,  and  what  that 
may  lead  to  I  can't  tell." 

"  Well,  they  may  go  to  Bagdad,  or  Jericho, 
or  any  other  place  they  fancy.  I  like  sport,  good, 
honest  sport,  whether  one  is  going  for  game  or 
fish  or  anything  else,  but  when  it  comes  to  low- 
down  trickery,  such  as  sneaking  in  on  a  cad  like 
Walters,  then,  Paul,  my  boy,  people  of  that  stripe 
may  go  to  the  devil." 

"  Such  a  proceeding  would  have  my  approval," 
Paul  said,  with  a  smile. 

"  You  haven't  heard  any  time  to-day  that  Mill- 
trum  Brothers  is  on  Queer  Street  ?  "  Mr.  Mill- 
trum  asked,  meaningly. 

"  No,"  and  Paul  laughed  as  he  spoke. 

"  What,  then,  do  you  think  of  this  ?  "  and  while 
speaking  Mr.  Milltrum  gave  Paul  a  letter. 

"  MY  DEAR  MR.  MILLTRUM  :  —  I  overheard  a 
conversation  last  evening  which  has  troubled  me 
exceedingly.  By  the  purest  accident  I  happened 
to  be  present  where  some  gentlemen  were  discuss- 
ing business  matters,  and  one  of  the  speakers  said 
that  the  firm  of  Milltrum  Bros,  had  recently  lost  a 
great  deal  of  money,  and  unless  helped  in  some 


HUSBAND    AND    WIFE  415 

way  would  have  to  fail.  You  won't  feel  hurt, 
I  am  sure,  at  my  suggesting  that  every  penny  I 
possess  is  at  your  disposal.  I  am  not  very  familiar 
with  business  matters,  but  if  you  will  kindly  let 
me  know  where  I  can  see  you,  I  will  arrange  so 
that  everything  can  be  transferred  to  you  imme- 
diately. Please,  Mr.  Milltrum,  let  me  help  you 
at  this  time.  I  really  don't  need  so  much  money. 
Mamma,  I  know,  will  give  me  what  I  want.  So 
just  remember  that  I  am  waiting  to  hear  from 
you,  and  anxious  to  do  everything  that  lies  in  my 
power.  Very  sincerely  yours, 

"  MIRIAM  HOLBROOK." 

Though  so  self-contained  and  impassive,  Paul's 
face  betrayed  something  of  the  emotion  aroused 
by  this  letter.  For  it  meant  much  more  to  him 
than  to  Mr.  Milltrum.  He  read  in  it  an  answer 
to  his  story  on  the  Gemmi  Pass.  He  was  con- 
fident Miriam  was  not  making  this  heroic  offer 
for  the  firm  of  Milltrum  Bros.,  but  from  a 
motive  of  far  greater  moment.  That  she  was 
willing  to  risk  her  entire  fortune,  leaving  herself 
practically  penniless,  was  to  him  a  splendid  proof 
of  what  a  love  such  as  hers  really  implied.  It  was 
surely  a  daring  thing  to  do.  But  love  is  always 
daring.  It  disdains  the  tithing  of  mint  and  anise 
and  cumin.  Nor  does  it  ever  stoop  to  measure  re- 
sults or  weigh  consequences.  It  is  the  one  thing 
in  this  world  which  knows  nothing  of  calculation. 


416        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

The  love  that  will  not  give  itself  with  measure- 
less bound  is  only  a  pinchbeck,  a  poor,  tawdry 
imitation,  a  mockery  and  a  travesty,  not  even 
worthy  to  be  dignified  by  the  name  of  sentiment. 

Neither  did  Miriam  consider  what  the  world 
would  say  if  Milltrum  Bros,  should  be  beaten 
in  their  fight,  and  her  fortune  swept  away  in 
consequence.  The  eyes  with  which  she  regarded 
the  world  were  gloriously  fearless,  for  the  light 
which  shone  in  them  came  from  a  heart  that  had 
no  need  of  the  sun,  its  courage  and  innocence 
being  divinely  radiant. 

"  Miss  Holbrook  is  a  woman  of  a  thousand," 
Paul  said,  quietly,  as  he  returned  the  letter  to 
Mr.  Milltrum. 

"  A  woman  of  a  million,  or  ten  millions,  or  as 
many  more  millions  as  you  care  to  add  on.  Most 
of  them  can  be  bought  with  a  trinket,  a  gewgaw, 
some  bauble,  or  childish  thing." 

There  were  times  when  Mr.  Milltrum  remem- 
bered bitterly  that  Victor  Carreau  had  bribed 
Kate  Dumont  to  an  act  of  treachery. 

"  What  reply  shall  you  make  to  Miss  Hol- 
brook ?  "  Paul  asked. 

"  I  will  write  and  accept  her  offer,"  Mr.  Mill- 
trum said,  decidedly. 

"  You  surely  don't  mean  it,"  Paul  replied,  with 
a  look  of  surprise. 

"  I  surely  do,"  and  the  old  gentleman's  eyes 
twinkled  merrily. 


HUSBAND    AND    WIFE  417 

Paul  saw  that  Mr.  Milltrum  had  some  little 
scheme  of  his  own  relating  to  Miss  Holbrook, 
one  in  which  he  seemingly  was  to  have  no  share, 
so  nothing  more  was  said. 

Mr.  Milltrum's  arrival  with  Paul  from  the 
office  interfered  with  Judith's  reception-room 
programme,  still  she  managed  to  give  the  "  wan- 
derer," as  she  smilingly  called  him,  a  wel- 
come as  earnest  and  cordial  as  any  one  could 
desire. 

"  Now,  Uncle  Lewis,"  she  said,  when  the  din- 
ner had  reached  a  certain  stage,  "  tell  me  some- 
thing of  your  adventures  in  Switzerland.  From 
what  you  have  said,  your  Gemmi  Pass  experience 
must  have  been  one  of  rare  enjoyment." 

"  It  was ;  such  things  ought  to  be  rare,  and  the 
rarer  they  are  the  better  for  me.  But,  Peggy, 
will  you  ever  forget  our  coming  in  on  that  lunch- 
party,  when  Paul  was  struggling  with  a  sausage 
sandwich,  and  Miss  Holbrook  was  jabbering  with 
the  professor  ?  " 

"What  professor?"  Judith  asked,  though  her 
question  had  another  intent. 

"  A  podgy  and  rather  profuse  personage,  who 
perspired  ponderously,"  Mr.  Milltrum  replied, 
alliteratively,  a  weakness  into  which  he  lapsed 
at  times.  "  Really,  though,  Judith,  I  must  beg 
your  pardon  for  speaking  so  lightly  of  the  pro- 
fessor. Kindly  excuse  me." 

"Why   this   overwhelming   courtesy?     What 


418         THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

have  I  to  do  with  the  podgy  professor,  that  you 
should  be  so  careful  of  my  feelings  ?  " 

In  vain  Paul  tried  to  catch  Mr.  Milltrum's 
eye  with  a  warning  glance.  Equally  vain  was 
his  attempt  to  throw  in  a  diverting  question.  Mr. 
Milltrum  at  times  held  himself  down  like  a  dog 
following  a  scent,  and  would  not  be  led  away.  So 
he  answered: 

"  The  professor  is  a  relative  of  yours,  or, 
rather,  his  wife  is,  which,  I  suppose,  is  the  same 
thing.  Didn't  Paul  tell  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  naturally  interested  to 
hear  of  an  adventure  with  which  she  was  con- 
nected. 

Again  Paul  looked  at  Mr.  Milltrum,  and  again 
Mr.  Milltrum  refused  to  see  the  eyes  that  so 
anxiously  sought  his. 

"  Paul  has  been  so  busy  since  he  got  home  that 
probably  the  matter  slipped  his  mind.  Let  me 
tell  you  all  about  it." 

And  he  did,  naming  the  place  Professor  Schu- 
man  had  spoken  of,  and  the  entries  that  he  wished 
copied  from  the  church  register.  At  first  Judith 
listened  with  real  amusement,  for  Mr.  Milltrum's 
description  of  Professor  Schuman  and  his  amiable 
wife  was  more  laughable  than  definite,  but  as  he 
gradually  worked  within  the  circle  of  what  actu- 
ally happened,  and  spoke  of  the  request  the  pro- 
fessor made  to  Paul,  ending  up  with  the  name  of 
the  village  where  the  church  register  was  sup- 


HUSBAND   AND    WIFE  419 

posed  to  be,  a  frightened  look  came  into  her  face, 
her  eyes  filled  with  horror,  the  smile  died  on  her 
lips,  and  the  soft  laugh  which  but  a  moment  be- 
fore rippled  so  happily,  choked  into  something 
like  a  sob. 

But  Mr.  Milltrum  saw  nothing  of  this.  All  he 
could  see  was  the  professor,  whose  memory 
stirred  him  so  pleasantly. 

Then  he  asked  the  question  that  Paul  had 
dreaded  ever  since  the  subject  was  mentioned : 

"  Did  you  remember  those  entries  for  Professor 
Schuman  when  you  were  in  New  Orleans,  Paul  ?  " 

''  Yes,"  Paul  answered,  bravely. 

"  And  you  went  to  the  church  where  they 
were  supposed  to  be  ?  " 

'  Yes,"  Paul  replied,  as  abruptly  as  before, 
then,  turning  to  Miss  Milltrum,  asked  her  a  ques- 
tion, one  of  no  importance  in  itself,  but  with  the 
hope  of  changing  the  conversation. 

But  Mr.  Milltrum  was  inexorable.  Had  he 
been  a  lawyer,  cross-examining  a  witness,  he 
could  not  have  shown  a  keener  interest  in  Paul's 
movements  when  in  New  Orleans  and  the  village 
to  which  he  had  gone  for  the  entries  desired  by 
Professor  Schuman.  Little  did  he  imagine  that 
by  his  pitiless  inquiries  he  was  visiting  upon  Kate 
Dumont's  daughter  a  punishment  infinitely  worse 
than  death.  But  Judith  was  brave.  There  was 
good  blood  in  her  veins,  despite  its  taints  here  and 
there.  Besides,  she  had  a  hope,  a  substantial 


420        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

hope,  that,  though  Paul  had  seen  the  church  regis- 
ter, the  marriage  record  might  have  been  with- 
held. She  therefore  listened  eagerly  to  Mr. 
Milltrum's  questions,  and  Paul's  courteous  but 
guarded  replies,  finally  reaching  the  conclusion 
that,  though  Paul  had  seen  Father  Auvergne, 
nothing  had  been  said  regarding  her  marriage. 
So  she  began  to  breathe  more  freely,  her  face 
became  less  rigid,  her  eyes  lost  something  of  their 
fear,  and,  when  the  conversation  took  another 
turn,  she  entered  into  it  almost  as  heartily  as  the 
others.  But  all  through  the  evening  a  vague 
sense  of  danger  haunted  her.  She  felt  as  though 
her  feet  were  on  slippery  places,  and  any  moment 
were  liable  to  give  way.  She  smiled  at  some  of 
Mr.  Milltrum's  quaint  descriptions,  and  his  still 
quainter  comments  on  both  places  and  persons, 
but  when  she  thought  of  Paul's  meeting  with 
•Father  Auvergne  her  heart  became  strangely 
heavy.  At  times  she  would  glance  stealthily  at 
Paul,  but  his  face  was  impenetrable,  nothing  in 
either  his  look  or  expression  giving  her  the 
slightest  cue.  It  was  a  long,  hard  evening  for 
Judith,  yet  she  dreaded  the  hour  when  the  Mill- 
trums  would  leave,  lest  their  going  might  leave 
her  alone  with  Paul. 

"  You  may  look  for  me  in  the  morning,"  Mr. 
Milltrum  said  to  Paul,  when  he  was  bidding  him 
good-by ;  "  it  isn't  every  day  that  things  are  so 


HUSBAND   AND    WIFE  421 

lively  down  your  way.  I  want  to  see  some  of 
the  fun." 

That  was  his  way  of  regarding  one  of  the  most 
exciting  times  Wall  Street  had  ever  known. 
Already  a  score  of  fortunes  had  changed  hands, 
and  many  more  had  been  wiped  out  as  chalk 
figures  on  a  blackboard.  Raid  after  raid  had  been 
made  on  strongly  placed  stocks,  compelling  some 
men  to  hurry  in  from  their  country  homes,  and 
remain  in  their  offices  from  morning  till  night, 
not  a  few  availing  themselves  of  office  chairs  and 
lounges  for  the  brief  rest  which  exhausted  nature 
demanded.  It  was  indeed  a  battle  of  the  giants. 
Paul  had  good  reason  to  say  that  the  new  West- 
ern combination  had  apparently  plenty  of  money, 
and  money  on  the  stock-market  can  do  nearly 
as  it  pleases.  Of  course  Milltrum  Bros,  had 
rivals,  keen,  daring,  and  not  overscrupulous, 
who  would  willingly  have  seen  its  colors  lowered. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  strong,  conservative  men, 
who  were  the  real  pillars  of  business,  and  whose 
interests  in  the  country  were  too  serious  to  be 
lightly  regarded,  supported  Milltrum  Bros,  with- 
out stint. 

Paul  therefore  had  command  of  resources  far 
beyond  those  held  by  his  immediate  firm.  Mr. 
Milltrum's  name  alone  was  worth  millions.  The 
shrewd,  wide-awake  Chicagoan  had  not  lived  in 
vain.  His  integrity  had  a  market  value  much 
greater  than  that  of  mere  securities.  Paul  also 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

was  held  in  high  regard.  He  was  known  as  a 
safe,  careful  dealer,  too  wise  to  be  inveigled  into 
foolish  kite-flying  schemes,  and  always  able  to 
give  immediate  response  to  any  demands  made 
upon  him. 

The  new  combination  had  therefore  a  larger 
contract  on  its  hands  than  it  imagined,  but  Mill- 
trum  Bros,  had  not  escaped  scot-free.  There  was 
nothing  very  seriously  involved,  and  Mr.  Mill- 
trum's  remark  that  he  was  coming  down  to  share 
in  the  fun  indicated  fairly  his  view  of  the  case. 
Paul,  feeling  responsible  for  the  Saxby  inter- 
ests, and  realizing  that  they  needed  special  care, 
after  Mr.  Milltrum  had  gone  retired  to  his  room, 
where  he  worked  until  long  after  midnight. 

A  gentle  tap  on  his  door  surprised  him  slightly, 
and,  on  opening  it,  to  his  much  greater  surprise 
he  saw  Judith. 

"  Excuse  my  disturbing  you,"  she  said,  "  but 
I  wanted  to  see  you  for  a  few  minutes.  May  I 
come  in  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered,  gathering  up  the 
papers  on  which  he  had  been  at  work,  and  wheel- 
ing over  an  easy  chair  for  her. 

"  I  came  to  talk  with  you  about  my  letter,"  she 
said,  with  a  pitiful  little  smile,  for  her  lips  quiv- 
ered as  she  spoke,  and  she  looked  very  much  as 
when  Mr.  Milltrum  was  speaking  of  Professor 
Schuman. 

"  Might  it  not  be  better  to  wait  a  few  days  ?  " 


HUSBAND    AND    WIFE  423 

Paul  asked,  gently,  touched  by  the  evident  anxiety 
she  manifested.  "  Some  things,  you  know,  have 
a  way  of  working  out  of  themselves.  Then  there 
are  other  things  that  require  time." 

Judith  felt  that  Paul  was  merely  fencing,  but 
his  smile  was  so  kindly  that  she  took  hope. 

"  I  wrote  out  of  my  heart,  Paul.  That  letter 
was  no  mere  composition.  Of  course  I  remember 
the  terms  of  our  marriage.  But  I  cannot  hold 
myself  within  those  terms.  I  love  you,  Paul. 
And  I  want  to  share,  not  merely  your  home,  but 
your  life.  I  may  have  been  thoughtless  and  per- 
haps selfish,  but  that  day  has  gone.  Now  I  am 
yours,  body  and  soul,  and  if  you  can  only  give 
me  a  hundredth  part  of  the  love  that  I  give  you, 
I  shall  be  the  happiest  woman  in  New  York." 

By  this  time  she  had  risen  from  her  chair,  and 
was  facing  Paul,  who  was  standing  with  his  hand 
resting  on  the  table.  How  he  felt  for  her  at  that 
moment!  A  great  pity  filled  his  heart.  His  first 
anger  had  burned  itself  out,  leaving  only  sorrow 
in  its  stead.  Father  Auvergne's  kindly  counsels 
had  prevailed,  and  he  had  resolved,  cost  what  it 
would,  to  hide  from  Judith  his  knowledge  of  her 
secret.  But  to  meet  her  newly  awakened  love 
with  a  love  of  his  own  was  not  possible.  For  love 
cannot  be  compelled  in  the  heart  of  either  man 
or  woman.  There  may  be  gratitude,  or  sympathy, 
or  admiration,  but  these  are  not  love.  Love  is  not 
a  mental  product,  and  cannot  be  reasoned  out,  no 


424        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

matter  what  advantages  may  accrue  therefrom. 
Paul  understood  all  this.  He  was  too  honest  to 
simulate  a  passion,  though  by  doing  so  he  could 
set  Judith's  heart  at  rest,  and  make  her  life 
supremely  happy.  Perhaps  she  felt  this,  for  she 
was  looking  into  his  face  with  intense  eagerness, 
but  to  fail  meant  for  her  so  much  of  bitterness 
and  shame  that  she  flung  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  and  drawing  his  face  down  to  hers  kissed 
him  again  and  again,  nor  would  she  let  him  go 
until  the  perfume  of  her  breath,  the  love-light 
in  her  eyes,  the  passion  of  her  lips  had  so  over- 
whelmed Paul  that  for  the  moment  he  forgot 
everything  save  the  mighty  love  which  now  pos- 
sessed the  beautiful  woman  who  for  years  had 
seemed  so  indifferent  to  his  presence. 

"  Why  can't  you  love  me,  Paul  ?  But  you 
must.  I  will  not  wait  any  longer.  You  are  mine. 
And  I  am  going  to  claim  you.  O  Paul !  Paul !  " 
And  again  she  lavished  caresses  upon  him,  her 
arms  clinging  around  his  neck  with  a  strength 
which  seemed  exhaustless. 

"Judith,"  he  whispered,  hoarsely,  "please  re- 
strain yourself.  It  is  very  late.  I  have  a  trying 
day  to-morrow.  We  can  talk  about  these  things 
at  another  time  —  " 

"  No,  Paul,  now.  You  must  love  me.  I  will 
not  be  denied.  Surely  I  am  not  so  dull  and  un- 
attractive that  you  can  see  nothing  in  me  worthy 
of  your  love." 


HUSBAND    AND    WIFE  425 

Then  she  drew  back  and  faced  him  once  more, 
her  splendid  beauty  so  revealing  itself  that  she 
seemed  like  the  goddess  of  a  poet's  dream.  Never 
was  man  more  strongly  tempted.  Why  not  for- 
get that  fatal  entry  in  the  church  register? 
Why  not  forget  that  she  had  once  been  the  wife 
of  Bothwell  ?  Why  allow  the  memory  of  the  dead 
Miriam  to  throw  its  shadow  upon  his  path? 
Why  should  the  image  of  a  living  Miriam  haunt 
him  so  constantly?  Here  was  a  woman  who 
loved  him  with  a  passion  which  had  broken  her 
pride  so  utterly  that  not  even  a  vestige  remained. 
And  this  woman  was  his  wife,  and  was  actually 
suing  for  a  love  to  which  she  had  every  right ! 

Then  all  at  once  there  rose  before  him  the 
scene  in  the  sacristy,  and  he  saw  the  finger  of 
Father  Auvergne  point  to  the  record  made  by 
his  own  hand.  He  drew  back,  his  face  hardened, 
a  stern  expression  gathered  around  his  mouth, 
and  he  moved  to  another  part  of  the  room,  leaving 
Judith  standing  near  his  vacant  chair.  Then  she 
understood  in  some  mysterious  way,  though  Paul 
gave  her  no  hint  or  sign  that  he  had  seen  the 
record  of  her  marriage,  and  that  in  so  deceiving 
him  she  had  sinned  beyond  all  hope  of  forgiveness. 
Perhaps  if  she  had  told  him  the  nature  of  Both- 
well's  hold  upon  her  father,  and  the  price  he  de- 
manded for  her  father's  liberty,  and  if  she  had 
frankly  made  a  full  confession  of  her  own  weak- 
ness in  yielding  to  Bothwell's  desires,  Paul  might 


426        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

so  far  have  condoned  her  folly  as  to  let  the  secret 
remain  untold.  But  after  imperiously  demanding 
all  the  love  that  a  wife  could  claim,  and  enforcing 
that  demand  with  the  full  stress  and  passion  of 
which  she  was  capable,  to  tell  a  story,  such  as  hers 
would  have  to  be,  was  impossible.  She  stood  for 
a  few  moments  in  silence,  then  with  the  bearing 
of  an  empress  bade  Paul  good  night  and  returned 
to  her  own  room. 


XL 

JUDITH'S  ATONEMENT 


T 


HE  day  following  Judith's  pathetic  inter- 
view with  Paul,  the  hall  servant  in  the  Bedford 
mansion  experienced  a  serious  mental  disturbance, 
for  in  his  august  presence,  unabashed  and  im- 
movable, stood  a  person  whose  like  he  had  never 
seen  before.  Yoba  was  his  visitor  who  had  come 
with  a  letter  for  Mrs.  Bedford. 

Jeames  offered  to  take  this  letter,  to  which 
Yoba  demurred,  whereupon  Jeames  waxed  wroth 
and  intimated  that  Yoba  would  do  well  to  retire. 
Yoba,  not  being  of  a  retiring  mind,  smiled  calmly 
in  the  face  of  the  great  man  under  whose  care 
the  Bedford  mansion  enjoyed  such  peace.  This 
was  intolerable.  It  meant  a  defiance  of  authority, 
an  utter  disregard  of  the  supreme  laws  through 
which  hall  servants  exercise  their  sovereignty. 
With  the  bearing  of  an  Oriental  monarch  Jeames 
moved  toward  Yoba,  confident  of  his  immediate 
submission,  but  in  the  country  which  gave  Yoba 
to  a  waiting  world,  hall  servants,  however  gor- 
geously attired,  had  no  distinct  place.  The  wrath 
427 


428        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

of  the  Bedford  potentate,  therefore,  failed  of  any 
effect  other  than  a  deep  opulent  smile.  This  in- 
furiated Jeames,  who,  forgetful  of  the  splendid 
dignities  inhering  to  such  an  office  as  his,  purpled 
with  anger. 

"  Get  out !  "  he  shouted.  "  And  be  quick  about 
it,"  and  while  speaking  caught  Yoba  by  the  arm 
as  though  he  would  lead  him  to  the  door. 

To  his  amazement,  Yoba  didn't  move.  Had 
he  been  a  bronze  statue  weighing  half  a  ton 
he  could  not  have  stood  more  fixed  and  solid. 
Jeames  now  began  to  feel  decidedly  uncomforta- 
ble. He  had  reached  the  end  of  his  special  re- 
sources and  accomplished  nothing.  Nothing 
remained  but  to  call  for  assistance,  something 
he  had  not  done  since  entering  the  Bedford  house- 
hold. Accordingly  he  touched  an  electric  button, 
an  emergency  affair  with  which  certain  Gotham 
mansions  are  provided,  and  soon  a  stalwart  foot- 
man appeared  in  the  hall. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  he  asked. 

His  clothes  were  American,  his  accent  Irish. 

"  This  sawed-off  nigger  has  a  letter  for  Mrs. 
Bedford,  and  he  will  neither  give  it  to  me  nor 
get  out." 

Jeames  was  assuredly  very  angry,  or  such  an 
expression  as  "  sawed-off  nigger  "  would  never 
have  fallen  from  his  immaculate  lips. 

"What  does  he  say?" 

"  I  can't  get  him  to  say  anything." 


JUDITH'S    ATONEMENT  429 

"  Hasn't  he  a  tongue  ? 

"  I  should  say  not." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  a  lingo  of  his  own." 

"  Try  him  and  find  out." 

The  suave  Hibernian  approached  the  smiling 
Yoba,  but  the  interview  was  not  satisfactory. 
Then  Michael  looked  at  Jeames,  and  Jeames 
looked  at  Michael,  Yoba  meanwhile  looking  at 
them  both.  What  might  have  happened  it 
would  be  difficult  to  say,  for  wrath  was  beginning 
to  stir  the  Milesian  blood,  and  the  Hibernian  who 
does  not  love  a  scrimmage  has  yet  to  be  born, 
when  fortunately  Judith  came  into  the  hall. 
Seeing  Yoba,  she  staggered  and  a  great  fear  took 
possession  of  her.  When  Yoba  saw  her,  he 
pushed  past  the  footman  and  hall  servant  and 
gave  her  the  letter  he  held  in  his  hand.  Then 
he  almost  rushed  for  the  door,  both  of  the  ser- 
vants looking  after  him  in  amazement.  With  a 
face  from  which  everything  of  blood  had  de- 
parted, Judith  went  into  the  library  and  opened 
the  mysterious  letter.  For  a  time  her  eyes  refused 
obedience  to  her  will.  All  she  could  see  was  a 
sheet  of  paper  upon  which  tracings  of  ink  were 
visible.  Her  hands  also  were  in  rebellion,  for 
they  caused  the  paper  to  tremble  so  violently  that 
to  read  it  was  impossible.  But  nerving  herself 
by  a  supreme  effort  she  spread  the  letter  on  the 
table  at  which  she  was  standing,  and  gradually 
its  meaning  broke  upon  her  mind. 


430        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  My  dear  Judith,"  it  said.  "  Kindly  arrange 
to  meet  me  this  afternoon  at  the  Sembrada.  Mr. 
Neumarck,  as  you  are  aware,  has  apartments 
there,  and  if  you  can  find  time  to  call  on  him 
he  will  be  very  glad.  There  is  no  need  of  going 
into  particulars  now  except  to  suggest  that 
nothing,  I  trust,  will  detain  you  from  this  ap- 
pointment. Suppose  I  say  four  o'clock.  If  I 
do  not  see  you  then  I  shall  do  myself  the  great 
pleasure  of  calling  on  Mr.  Paul  Bedford  this 
evening. 

"  GERALD." 

Poor  Judith!  Did  ever  woman  receive  such 
a  staggering  blow?  Only  the  night  before  had 
she  pleaded  with  Paul  Bedford  for  the  love  a 
wife  should  have  from  her  husband.  Now  she 
learned  that  her  claim  was  valueless,  that  she  had 
not  even  a  right  to  his  name,  and  that  the  hus- 
band of  former  years  had  returned  from  death 
to  demjand  her  immediate  presence.  It  seemed 
like  some  horrible  dream.  She  could  not  imagine 
such  a  thing  possible.  The  letter  must  be  a  cruel 
forgery.  Gerald  Bothwell  was  on  the  Portland 
steamer  when  it  was  wrecked  off  the  eastern 
coast.  Had  she  not  made  the  most  searching 
inquiries,  and  been  given  the  most  definite  proof  ? 
But  who  sent  Yoba  with  this  letter,  and  how  did 
the  writer  know  of  her  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Neumarck,  or  of  her  visit  to  his  apartments  at 


JUDITH'S    ATONEMENT  431 

the  Sembrada?  Either  a  fearful  conspiracy  was 
being  planned,  the  object  undoubtedly  to  pur- 
chase her  silence,  or  —  Then  she  shuddered. 

She  had  ordered  the  carriage  for  eleven,  intend- 
ing to  do  some  shopping  and  lunching  afterward 
with  Mrs.  Helmsley,  but  she  remained  in  her 
room,  one  moment  looking  at  the  letter  with  eyes 
full  of  horror,  and  the  next  sobbing  as  if  her 
heart  were  breaking.  What  hours  these  were! 
Each  one  seemed  an  age  in  itself.  The  dainty 
little  clock,  one  of  Paul's  gifts  from  Paris,  chimed 
sweetly,  but  to  Judith  it  seemed  as  a  prison  bell 
tolling  the  knell  of  some  poor  wretch  who  on  the 
morrow  must  face  the  awful  mystery  of  death. 

As  the  afternoon  came  on  callers  presented 
themselves  at  the  Bedford  mansion,  but  the 
solemn  "  Not  at  home  "  of  Jeames  was  the  in- 
variable reply. 

At  three  o'clock,  in  the  plainest  of  walking 
costumes  and  heavily  veiled,  Judith  set  out  for 
the  Sembrada. 

How  well  she  remembered  her  former  visit 
and  her  interview  with  Mr.  Neumarck!  At  that 
time  she  was  on  a  very  different  errand.  She 
had  recovered  from  the  shock  occasioned  by  Both- 
well's  death,  and  was  beginning  to  rejoice  in  her 
freedom.  To  deal  fairly  by  Judith,  it  is  only 
just  to  say  that  when  she  heard  of  Bothwell 
being  a  passenger  on  the  ill-fated  steamer,  she 
was  greatly  distressed.  For  a  time  she  really 


432        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

sorrowed.  Her  sympathies  were  touched,  and 
her  memory  of  Bothwell  had  in  it  a  goodly  meas- 
ure of  tenderness.  She  even  resented  the  success- 
ful issue  of  Mr.  Milltrum's  railroad  scheme,  and 
there  were  days  when  her  heart  was  full  of  bitter- 
ness. But  she  had  never  loved  Bothwell.  His 
influence  over  her  at  times  was  very  strong, 
almost  mesmeric,  dominating  her  most  strangely, 
but  her  marriage  was  not  the  result  of  either 
affection  or  desire,  a  yielding  rather  to  her 
father's  urgent  plea.  There  was,  however,  an 
element  of  adventure  in  the  secrecy  and  mystery 
of  the  proceeding  which  appealed  to  her.  At 
heart  Judith  was  an  intriguante.  The  French 
strain  in  her  blood,  combined  with  tendencies 
inherited  from  her  mother,  gave  a  certain 
piquancy  to  her  relations  with  Bothwell,  and  there 
were  times  when  she  looked  forward  to  a 
dramatic  climax  in  which  she  would  have  a  promi- 
nent part.  But  when  it  was  known  that  Both- 
well  had  taken  passage  for  Portland,  and  that 
there  was  no  possible  doubt  as  to  his  death,  she 
immediately  saw  an  easy  escape  from  all  em- 
barrassment. With  a  feeling,  therefore,  of  com- 
parative gladness  she  went  to  the  Sembrada, 
hoping  to  find  the  jewel-casket  containing  the 
certificate  bearing  Father  Auvergne's  signature. 
She  had  a  notion,  by  no  means  uncommon,  that 
with  the  destruction  of  the  certificate  all  positive 
evidence  of  her  marriage  would  be  removed. 


JUDITH'S    ATONEMENT  433 

Thinking  over  these  things  and  recalling  every 
detail  of  her  interview  with  Mr.  Neumarck,  she 
remembered  the  keen,  suspicious  way  in  which 
he  had  questioned  her  respecting  Bothwell.  How 
inscrutable  his  face!  How  mysterious  his  smile! 
How  full  of  mockery  his  words !  Was  it  possible 
that  he  knew  anything  of  Bothwell?  Why  then 
had  he  not  told  her?  What  was  his  motive  in 
such  outrageous  deception? 

With  a  heavy  heart,  and  a  mind  full  of  baffling 
questions,  Judith  reached  the  Sembrada,  and  ere 
long  was  shown  to  Mr.  Neumarck's  apartment. 
He  was  sitting  in  his  wheeled  chair,  just  as  she 
had  seen  him  before,  the  years  only  adding  to  the 
ferret  sharpness  of  his  eyes  and  the  mocking 
smile  of  his  thin,  cruel  lips. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  the  meaning  of  this  letter?  " 
Judith  asked,  with  a  touch  of  imperiousness,  her 
splendid  beauty  enhanced  by  the  excitement  under 
which  she  labored. 

"  Some  letters  explain  themselves,"  he  an- 
swered, taking  the  letter  from  her  hand,  "  others 
require  an  interpreter." 

There  was  something  so  suggestive  in  Mr. 
Neumarck's  manner,  that  Judith  instantly  sus- 
pected him  of  knowing  more  about  the  letter  than 
he  pretended. 

"  You  remember  my  calling  here  soon  after 
Mr.  Bothwell's  death  ?  "  The  look  Judith  gave 
Mr.  Neumarck  was  earnest  and  searching. 


434        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  My  memory  is  tolerably  good,"  he  sneeringly 
replied. 

"  Had  you  any  reason  to  believe  at  that  time 
that  Mr.  Bothwell  was  not  a  passenger  on  the 
Portland  boat?" 

Again  Judith's  eyes  searched  the  face  of  Mr. 
Neumarck,  but  a  child  might  just  as  well  have 
tried  to  decipher  an  Egyptian  monolith. 

"  This  is  not  a  court-room,  Mrs.  Bedford,"  and 
the  thin  lips  curled  slightly. 

"  I  am  aware  of  that.  But  if  you  knew  that 
Mr.  Bothwell 'had  not  sailed  on  that  boat,  and 
instead  of  being  drowned,  as  we  all  supposed, 
was  living  somewhere  in  the  West,  why  didn't 
you  tell  me?  " 

"  How  was  I  to  know  that  you  had  any  special 
interest  in  Mr.  Bothwell?  You  merely  hinted  at 
some  kind  of  a  friendship,  and  your  chief  concern, 
as  I  remember  our  interview,  was  the  jewel- 
casket  Bothwell  had  placed  in  my  keeping." 

"  You  knew  nothing  then  of  my  relations  with 
Mr.  Bothwell?" 

"  Am  I  a  witness  in  the  hands  of  a  lawyer  ?  " 

"  You  may  evade  my  questions  in  any  way  you 
please.  Such  seems  to  be  your  intent.  But  if  you 
wilfully  withheld  from  me  the  fact  of  Mr.  Both- 
well  being  alive  at  that  time,  you  were  guilty  of 
a  foul,  contemptible  deception,  one  which  allowed 
me  to  contract  an  unlawful  marriage." 

"  Do  I  need  to  tell  you  again,  Mrs.  Bedford, 


JUDITH'S    ATONEMENT  435 

that  you  never  once  intimated  that  you  were  Mr. 
Bothwell's  wife  ?  Why  didn't  you  inform  me  of 
that  very  interesting  fact?  I  might  have  been 
of  service  to  you,  which  would  have  given  me 
great  pleasure." 

Mr.  Neumarck  accompanied  his  words  with  a 
mocking  gesture. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  Mr.  Bothwell,  or 
of  that  letter  in  your  hands?  " 

Judith  was  now  standing  close  to  Mr.  Neu- 
marck's  chair,  her  eyes  flashing,  and  her  face 
blazing  with  anger. 

"  Double-headed  questions,  Mrs.  Bedford,  are 
always  troublesome.  But  "  —  touching  the  bell 
on  the  table  as  he  spoke  —  "I  will  answer  them 
in  my  own  way." 

The  bell  was  answered  with  singular  prompt- 
ness, when  Mr.  Neumarck  said  to  the  servant : 

"  Tell  Mr.  Simlick  I  wish  to  see  him." 

"  Simlick,"  Judith  questioned  herself.  "  Where 
have  I  heard  that  name?  It  seems  familiar." 

Then  as  a  lightning-flash  illumines  the  night, 
revealing  skies  and  mountains  hidden  in  the  dark- 
ness, so  in  a  moment  she  was  back  in  Nevada, 
once  more  seeing  the  mysterious  Yoba  at  the  car 
window  with  a  letter  from  Mr.  Simlick  for  Paul. 
Another  flash  brought  back  her  terror  at  that 
time,  the  agony  she  endured  lest  the  Simlick 
spoken  of  might  be  none  other  than  Gerald  Both- 
well.  A  terrible  fear  now  came  upon  her.  Filled 


436        THE    MYSTERY    OF   MIRIAM 

with  a  nameless  dread,  her  eyes  followed  the  ser- 
vant as  he  left  the  room,  nor  were  they  withdrawn 
from  the  door  until  it  opened  again  and  Mr.  Sim- 
lick  entered  the  parlor.  At  first  her  heart  gave  a 
great  bound  of  relief,  for  there  was  little  in  his 
appearance  to  recall  Gerald  Bothwell. 

"  This  is  Mrs.  Bedford,  who  has  come  to  make 
certain  inquiries  regarding  a  letter  she  received 
this  morning.  Perhaps  you  can  enlighten  her, 
Mr.  Simlick." 

Mr.  Neumarck's  face  was  almost  diabolical  in 
its  expression,  and  his  small,  piercing  eyes 
gleamed  maliciously. 

For  a  moment  Mr.  Simlick  silently  regarded 
Judith,  then  crossing  the  room  to  where  a  table 
stood  in  the  semi-darkness,  he  removed  his  false 
bushy  whiskers  and  blue  spectacles,  and  in  an  in- 
stant revealed  himself  as  Gerald  Bothwell. 

"Gerald!"  Judith  gasped. 

"  Judith,"  he  answered,  quietly. 

Then  she  dropped  into  a  chair  and  looked  at 
him  tremblingly. 

"  Permit  me  to  retire,  Mrs.  Bedford.  Mr. 
Simlick,  I  have  no  doubt,  can  answer  your  further 
inquiries  regarding  Mr.  Bothwell,"  Mr.  Neu- 
marck  said,  as  he  wheeled  his  chair  into  the  next 
room.  Then  a  servant  closed  the  folding  doors, 
leaving  Judith  alone  with  Bothwell. 

"  I  assume  you  received  my  note,"  he  said  as 
he  stood  looking  down  at  Judith,  who  sat  almost 


JUDITH'S    ATONEMENT  437 

helpless  in  her  chair.  "  It  was  kind  of  you  to 
answer  it  in  person.  But  I  expected  you  would 
dp  so." 

"  Gerald,  why  did  you  ever  consent  to  such 
a  deception?  See  what  it  has  led  to.  Are  you 
aware  that  I  am  married  to  Paul  Bedford  ?  " 

Judith  could  hardly  speak  above  a  whisper,  and 
each  word  was  gasped  out  with  manifest  difficulty. 

"  Yes,  married  to  him,  but  not  his  wife.  That 
honor  is  mine,  Judith.  Father  Auvergne  yet 
lives.  The  church  register  remains.  And  I  have 
returned  to  claim  the  proud  privilege  of  being 
your  husband." 

There  was  an  expression  on  Bothwell's  face 
that  caused  Judith  to  shiver  from  head  to  foot. 

'  The  welcome  you  have  given  me  is  not  all 
I  might  reasonably  expect  after  these  years  of 
separation,  but  in  time,  Judith,  you  will  doubt- 
less restore  me  to  my  former  place  in  your  heart." 

This  time  Bothwell  smiled,  but  it  was  a  cruel, 
pitiless  smile. 

Then  Judith  leaped  to  her  feet.  Her  moment 
of  weakness  was  past.  To  be  taunted  in  this  way 
goaded  her  to  a  passion  bordering  on  fury. 

"  Gerald  Bothwell,"  she  said,  fearlessly,  meet- 
ing his  startled  look,  "  when  I  married  Paul 
Bedford  there  was  no  doubt  in  my  mind  but  you 
had  been  a  passenger  on  the  Portland  boat.  You 
sent  me  no  word.  You  gave  me  no  hint.  You 
made  no  sign.  For  all  these  years  you  have 


438        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

been  as  one  dead.  Now  you  return  and  demand 
that  I  come  back  to  you,  insisting  that  I  leave 
the  man  whose  name  I  bear,  and  whom  I  love 
with  all  my  heart.  Yes,  you  may  well  wince, 
and  scowl,  and  clench  your  hand.  But  these 
things  have  no  effect  on  me,  Gerald  Bothwell. 
I  have  only  another  word  to  say  —  the  courts 
may  annul  my  marriage  with  Paul  Bedford  and 
compel  me  to  assume  your  name.  Of  that,  how- 
ever, I  am  not  certain,  but  one  thing  I  am  cer- 
tain of,  all  the  courts  on  God's  earth  will  not 
compel  me  to  return  to  you." 

"  Don't  speak  so  positively,  Judith.  You  may 
have  to  change  your  mind." 

"  I  will  never  change  my  heart.  You  have 
played  the  part  of  a  coward,  a  poltroon,  and  no 
woman  with  a  drop  of  decent  blood  in  her  veins 
would  acknowledge  you  as  her  husband.  You 
are  mean  enough  to  denounce  me  to  Paul  Bed- 
ford. Perhaps  you  have  already  done  that. 
You  certainly  implied  as  much  in  this  letter.  But 
I  defy  you.  From  this  hour  I  renounce  you.  I 
hope  never  to  see  your  face  again.  Now  do  your 
worst." 

Judith  spoke  with  a  passion  that  gave  to  each 
word  the  force  of  a  bullet. 

Never  had  Bothwell  seen  her  so  aroused,  or 
so  gloriously  handsome  as  at  this  moment.  She 
had  the  bearing  of  a  queen.  Her  face  was 
worthy  of  a  Greek  goddess.  When  Bothwell 


JUDITH'S    ATONEMENT  439 

entered  the  room  his  heart  was  burning  with  a 
desire  for  revenge,  but  as  he  looked  at  Judith 
in-  her  superb  beauty,  a  wild,  fierce  passion  swept 
over  him  as  a  mighty  wave  from  a  fathomless 
sea.  Then  he  said : 

"Judith,  forgive  me!  I  deserve  everything 
you  have  said.  But  the  police  were  on  my  track. 
Everything  was  against  me.  I  was  simply  des- 
perate. Watching  my  chance,  I  went  West,  in- 
tending to  send  for  you  at  the  first  opportunity. 
Before  that  time  came  you  had  married  Bedford. 
Then  I  swore  an  oath  of  revenge.  In  fulfilment 
of  that  oath  I  came  East,  determined  to  bank- 
rupt his  business,  break  up  his  home,  perhaps 
take  his  life.  But,  Judith,  if  you  will  consent 
to  be  my  wife,  I  will  forego  everything.  We 
can  go  away  somewhere,  and  begin  all  over  again. 
I  am  rich,  richer  possibly  than  Bedford.  You 
can  have  anything  and  everything  you  please. 
Just  say  the  word,  and  I  will  take  all  the  legal 
steps  necessary.  I  mean  this,  Judith,  and  if  you 
accept  my  offer,  you  will  never  regret  it." 

As  Bothwell  spoke,  his  face  lost  everything  of 
harshness,  and  he  seemed  as  the  lover  of  bygone 
years.  Approaching  Judith,  he  bent  over  her 
with  a  tender,  appealing  look,  and  would  fain 
have  taken  her  hands  in  his. 

"  It  is  too  late,  Gerald,"  and  there  was  a  sad- 
ness in  her  voice,  which  made  it  even  more  im- 
pressive than  her  former  passionate  speech. 


440         THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

"  Your  time  to  speak  was  long  ago.  You  may 
be  rich,  but  there  are  some  things  money  can- 
not buy.  I  did  not  always  think  so,  but  I  know 
better  now.  You  are  too  late." 

"Don't  say  that,  Judith." 

"  Yes,  Gerald,  I  must  say  it." 

"  Remember  what  this  means  to  Paul  Bedford. 
I  have  sworn  —  " 

"  Your  oaths  are  of  little  consequence  to  Paul 
Bedford.  You  cannot  harm  him,  Gerald.  But 
I  spoke  angrily  a  moment  since.  Forgive  me. 
I  do  not  wish  -our  last  interview  to  have  such 
a  memory.  You  are  free,  Gerald,  to  take  what- 
ever steps  you  wish.  I  will  not  oppose  you  in 
anything.  Arrange  matters  as  may  seem  best. 
Now  I  must  be  going.  Good-by,"  and  before 
Bothwell  could  interfere,  Judith  had  gone  out, 
hurried  to  the  elevator,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
had  left  the  Sembrada. 

On  reaching  home,  Judith  went  to  her  room, 
where  she  spent  a  few  minutes  at  her  desk,  tying 
up  and  arranging  some  papers.  Then,  taking  a 
photograph  of  Paul  which  stood  on  her  dressing- 
table,  she  kissed  it  passionately  again  and  again. 
Her  face  was  deadly  pale,  and,  as  she  looked  at 
the  photograph,  her  eyes  burned  strangely.  Out- 
wardly, she  seemed  calm,  very  unlike  the  pas- 
sionate, imperious  Judith,  who  only  an  hour 
before  had  defied  Bothwell  in  words  hotter  than 
lava  from  the  heart  of  a  burning  mountain.  And 


JUDITH'S    ATONEMENT  441 

that  calmness  remained,  for,  when  the  maid  went 
to  Mrs.  Bedford's  dressing-room  to  arrange  her 
dinner  toilet,  Judith  was  found  on  her  couch  in 
a  deep,  dreamless  sleep,  her  beautiful  face  in- 
vested with  a  peace  only  possible  to  those  who 
have  passed  through  the  gates  of  death. 


XII. 

THE  COMBINATION  ENDS 


TH 


[ANKS  to  the  kindly  offices  of  Doctor 
Barrington,  who  immediately  responded  to  Paul's 
message,  a  formal  inquest  was  avoided.  Certain 
inquiries  were  inevitable,  but  everything  was  so 
arranged  that  few  suspected  the  cause  of  Judith's 
death.  Even  the  newspapers,  always  so  eager 
for  details,  and  often  brutally  indifferent  about 
intruding  on  private  matters,  were  baffled  by  the 
course  of  Doctor  Barrington.  They  all  gave 
generous  space  to  the  announcement,  which  was 
only  natural,  for  Mrs.  Bedford  had  been  very 
prominent  in  the  social  life  of  the  city,  but  there 
was  not  a  hint  as  to  the  actual  facts  in  the  case. 
Judith's  deep  sleep,  therefore,  was  not  disturbed. 
When  Gerald  Bothwell  saw  the  startling  para- 
graphs in  the  morning  paper,  he  was  certain 
that  some  terrible  mistake  had  been  made.  It 
could  not  possibly  be  true.  Judith  dead!  Only 
a  few  hours  before  he  had  met  her  at  the  Sem- 
brada,  when  her  beauty  was  never  more  enthrall- 
ing, and  when  life  in  glorious  effulgence  flashed 

442 


THE    COMBINATION    ENDS         443 

from  her  eyes  and  throbbed  in  her  veins !  Some 
silly  reporter  had  brought  about  a  confusion  of 
names.  No  other  explanation  was  possible. 
But  when  he  looked  through  the  other  papers 
and  saw  the  same  announcement,  a  sense  of  awful 
dread  came  upon  himi.  Calling  Yoba,  he  sent 
him  to  the  Bedford  mansion,  and  when  Yoba 
returned,  doubt  was  no  longer  possible. 

Then  a  great  rage  took  possession  of  Both- 
well.  He  walked  up  and  down  his  room  as  one 
demented.  He  raved  like  a  madman.  His  eyes 
had  a  wild,  dangerous  glare,  and  there  was  a 
look  on  his  face  from  which  most  men  would 
shrink,  for  it  meant  that  he  was  in  an  ugly  mood, 
and  would  brook  no  trifling.  Yoba,  who  had 
often  seen  his  master  in  fierce  anger,  for  the  first 
time  quailed  before  him,  so  fearful  was  the  pas- 
sion under  which  he  labored.  Judith's  glorious 
beauty,  as  he  had  seen  her  the  day  before,  came 
upon  him  as  a  vision.  He  remembered  how 
proudly  she  had  borne  herself  in  that  strange 
interview,  when  he  had  suddenly  appeared  as  one 
from  the  dead.  He  could  see  her  rising  from 
her  chair,  and  with  the  mien  of  an  outraged 
empress  denounce  him  for  his  cowardice,  and 
with  unutterable  scorn  refuse  his  tardy  offers 
of  reparation. 

Then  he  remembered  the  infinite  pathos  with 
which  she  said : 

"  It  is  too  late,  Gerald,  too  late,  too  late ! " 


444        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

He  felt  now  that  her  anger  was  justified,  and 
that  the  part  he  had  played  was  despicable.  How 
easily  he  could  have  let  her  know  of  his  escape! 
With  Yoba  ever  ready  to  do  his  will,  and  upon 
whose  fidelity  he  could  always  rely,  why  had 
he  not  communicated  with  her?  To  carry  out 
his  own  selfish  ends,  he  had  left  her  alone,  and 
for  more  than  three  years  had  not  given  her  even 
a  hint  that  he  was  alive.  The  shame  of  it,  the 
cruelty  of  it,  the  perfidy  of  it,  now  filled  him 
with  horror.  He  thought  of  his  letter  summon- 
ing her  to  the  Sembrada,  cold,  curt,  threatening, 
and  of  all  that  his  demands  implied,  —  a  sur- 
render of  Paul  Bedford's  name,  an  exposure  of 
the  secret  she  had  guarded  with  such  care,  a 
withdrawal  from  the  position  to  which  she  had 
attained,  and  her  immediate  expulsion  from  the 
circles  to  which  her  beauty  and  wealth  had  given 
her  such  generous  welcome.  Without  a  word 
of  warning,  as  lightning  from  a  cloudless  sky, 
all  this  humiliation  had  come  upon  her,  and  it 
was  his  work,  the  man  with  whom  she  had  once 
exchanged  marriage  vows!  Now  she  was  dead, 
dead  in  the  house  of  Paul  Bedford,  while  he 
would  not  be  permitted  to  look  upon  her  face. 

But  there  are  times  when  repentance  is  una- 
vailing, when  the  most  bitter  regrets  are  value- 
less, and  when  sorrow,  however  deep,  fails  to 
accomplish  any  good.  At  such  times,  remorse 
only  leads  to  recklessness,  and  men  forget  every- 


THE    COMBINATION    ENDS         445 

thing  except  their  own  guilt  and  shame.  Then 
they  become  hopeless,  and  their  despair  assumes 
a  form  of  frenzy. 

While  Bothwell  was  in  this  condition,  Mr. 
Neumarck  came  into  his  room,  and,  with  a  sneer, 
said: 

'  That  lovers'  quarrel  of  yours  has  turned  out 
seriously.  Judith  evidently  preferred  the  other 
man.  Which  shall  I  offer  you  —  sympathy  or 
congratulations  ?  " 

If  Mr.  Neumarck  had  given  Bothwell  even  a 
casual  glance,  he  would  not  have  spoken  in  this 
fashion.  For  once  his  sharp  ferret  eyes  failed 
in  their  duty. 

"  You  are  the  cause  of  all  this,"  Bothwell  re- 
torted, fiercely,  glaring  at  Mr.  Neumarck  with 
the  eyes  of  a  maniac. 

"  In  what  way  am  I  responsible?  You  have 
a  habit,  Mr.  Bothwell,  of  allowing  other  men 
to  carry  your  burdens.  In  this  instance,  I  refuse 
to  accommodate  you." 

The  cool,  mocking  tone  of  Mr.  Neumarck  was 
simply  maddening. 

"  Had  it  not  been  for  you,  this  would  not  have 
happened,"  Bothwell  said  more  fiercely  than  be- 
fore, taking  up  the  newspaper  from  the  table, 
and  pointing  with  trembling  finger  to  an  an- 
nouncement of  Judith's  death. 

"  Did  I  remain  in  Nevada  for  three  years,  and 
allow  my  wife  to  become  the  bride  of  our  mutual 


446        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

friend,  Mr.  Paul  Bedford?  Did  I  write  to  Mrs. 
Paul  Bedford,  inviting  her  to  call  at  the  Sem- 
brada?  Did  I  propose  to  her  that  we  quietly 
ignore  the  incident  of  her  second  marriage,  and 
resume  the  blissful  relations  of  former  years? 
My  dear  Mr.  Bothwell,  reserve  your  wrath  for 
some  one  else.  It  is  a  pity  to  waste  it  on  me." 

While  speaking,  Mr.  Neumarck's  sharp,  glit- 
tering eyes  had  in  them  a  gleam  of  contempt. 

"  Damn  you  for  an  old  rascal !  "  Bothwell 
exclaimed,  now  goaded  to  desperation.  "  Who 
was  it  that  fitted  out  the  Vampire,  and  induced 
Carreau  to  go  with  me  into  the  smuggling  busi- 
ness, and  then  held  a  noose  over  our  heads  because 
of  the  revenue  officer  who  was  drowned?  Who 
was  it,  when  you  were  running  Cranburg's,  be- 
cause I  was  in  your  toils,  compelled  me  to  act 
as  a  decoy?  And  when  I  was  in  Nevada,  and 
wrote  you  that  I  was  coming  home,  you,  you, 
refused  your  permission,  and  I  had  to  stay.  Only 
for  you,  Judith  would  now  be  living.  She  would 
have  come  to  me  in  Nevada.  You  are  a  cold- 
blooded scoundrel.  Another  word,  and  I'll  wring 
your  crooked  old  neck." 

Mr.  Neumarck  was  no  coward.  There  'had 
often  been  desperate  hazards  in  his  life,  but  no 
man  had  ever  seen  him  show  signs  of  fear.  More 
than  once  he  had  looked  death  in  the  face,  when 
the  least  weakness  would  have  been  fatal,  yet  his 
courage  never  failed  him.  He  was  utterly  heart- 


THE    COMBINATION    ENDS         447 

less,  knew  nothing  of  pity  or  tenderness,  fol- 
lowed with  unrelenting  hate  those  who  crossed 
his  path,  but  he  was  no  craven.  He  therefore 
met  Bothwell's  angry  glare  with  a  cool,  steady 
look,  his  long,  clawlike  ringers,  meantime,  toying 
with  a  revolver  in  his  pocket. 

"  Do  not  try  any  of  your  tricks  on  me,  Mr. 
Bothwell.  You  are  merely  a  coarse,  vulgar  brute, 
and  I'm  not  surprised  that  Judith  — " 

Blinded  with  passion,  Bothwell  leaped  at  the 
chair  in  which  Mr.  Neumarck  was  sitting,  and 
in  another  instant  would  have  caught  him  by 
the  throat,  when  Neumarck  gave  a  sudden  turn 
to  the  chair,  causing  Bothwell  to  miss  it,  and 
stagger  almost  to  the  floor.  Quick  as  a  flash, 
Neumarck  drew  his  revolver  and  fired,  the  bullet 
piercing  Bothwell's  heart,  and  killing  him  in- 
stantly. Yoba,  who  had  been  standing  near  the 
door  all  this  time,  seeing  Bothwell  reel  and  fall, 
with  the  spring  of  an  infuriated  panther,  and 
uttering  a  strange,  unearthly  cry,  leaped  upon 
Neumarck.  The  attack  was  so  sudden,  so  fero-' 
cious,  that  Neumarck's  revolver  was  useless,  and 
he  was  powerless  in  Yoba's  terrible  grasp. 

In  such  a  hotel  as  the  Sembrada,  a  pistol-shot 
aroused  immediate  confusion  among  the  several 
guests,  a  number  of  whom,  locating  the  report, 
rushed  to  Neumarck's  apartment,  and  were  thus 
in  time  to  save  the  unfortunate  man  from  being 
strangled. 


448        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

On  the  floor  lay  the  body  of  Bothwell,  while  at 
the  end  of  the  room,  pinioned  to  the  floor  by  the 
infuriated  Yoba,  his  face  blue,  his  eyes  bulging 
under  the  death-grip  upon  his  throat,  was  Neu- 
marck. 

With  difficulty  Yoba  was  torn  off,  and  held  by 
the  hotel  servants  until  he  became  quieter.  Neu- 
marck,  quite  insensible,  was  carried  to  his 
chamber,  and  laid  upon  his  bed,  where  he  was 
guarded  until  the  police  could  be  summoned. 

Upon  Neumarck's  departure  from  the  room, 
Yoba,  looking  around  with  a  half-terrified  and 
dazed  expression,  suddenly  caught  sight  of  his 
master,  and,  with  a  weird  cry,  sat  upon  the  floor 
at  Bothwell's  side,  and,  taking  the  head  upon 
his  knees,  smoothed  the  face  tenderly  with  his 
hands,  and  spoke  to  it  in  his  own  strange  way. 

He  gave  no  heed  to  the  crowd  as  they  pushed 
and  jostled,  other  than  bend  his  face  so  far  down 
over  that  of  Bothwell  as  to  protect  it  from  the 
vulgar  gaze  of  those  who  had  forced  their  way 
into  the  apartment. 

When  the  police  came  to  make  an  examination 
of  the  apartment  and  gather  such  evidence  as 
would  be  essential  at  the  inquest,  they  experi- 
enced much  difficulty  with  Yoba.  He  would 
not  allow  them  to  touch  the  body  of  Bothwell. 
When  they  desired  to  place  it  on  a  lounge,  where 
the  doctor  might  discover  the  cause  of  death,  he 
fought  with  the  strength  of  a  madman.  Finally, 


THE    COMBINATION    ENDS        449 

the  hotel  clerk,  who  more  than  once  had  be- 
friended Yoba,  prevailed  upon  him  to  allow  the 
corpse  to  be  carried  to  Bothwell's  room,  and 
laid  upon  his  bed.  No  sooner  was  this  done  than 
he  placed  himself  as  sentinel,  where  he  watched 
with  increasing  vigilance,  not  leaving  the  room 
day  or  night.  At  first  the  authorities  thought 
of  arresting  Yoba,  and  for  a  time  he  was  under 
police  surveillance,  but  the  confession  of  Neu- 
marck,  upon  gaining  consciousness  some  days 
later  at  the  hospital,  put  matters  in  a  clear  light. 
Mr.  Milltrum's  earnest  advocacy  of  Yoba's  cause 
undoubtedly  helped  to  secure  his  release,  for  he, 
though  deeply  shocked  by  the  sudden  death  of 
Judith,  hastened  to  the  Sembrada  when  he  saw 
in  the  papers  an  account  of  Yoba's  singular  devo- 
tion to  his  late  master,  who  was  spoken  of  as 
Simlick,  a  Western  mine  owner.  The  moment 
Yoba  saw  Mr.  Milltrum  he  gave  him  a  look  of 
grateful  recognition,  then  taking  his  hand,  placed 
it  on  his  head,  just  as  he  had  done  three  years 
before  in  Nevada,  after  which  he  made  other 
signs  expressive  of  gratitude  and  devotion. 

"  I  will  be  responsible  for  this  man,"  Mr.  Mill- 
trum said  to  the  coroner.  "  You  can  trust  him 
with  me.  I  met  him  out  West,  some  years  ago, 
where  he  rendered  me  a  great  service.  If  bail 
is  required,  I  will  furnish  whatever  is  necessary." 

"  The  evidence  all  points  to  Neumarck  as  the 
murderer,  and  so  far  there  is  no  criminal  charge 


450        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

against  Yoba,"  the  coroner  answered,  looking 
at  him  as  he  spoke,  "  but  the  circumstances  are 
so  peculiar  that  I  would  like  to  have  him  bonded 
in  some  way." 

"  Just  as  you  please.  If  my  bond  is  not  suf- 
ficient —  " 

"  Yours  is  ample,  Mr.  Milltrum.  The  clerk 
will  make  out  the  papers." 

Yoba  remained  in  the  Sembrada,  keeping  his 
strange  vigil,  the  solitary  watcher  at  Bothwell's 
bier,  and  the  only  mourner  who  followed  his 
body  to  the  cemetery,  after  which  he  went  to 
the  house  of  Mr.  Milltrum,  where  he  remained. 

How  pitiless  is  fate !  How  implacable  is  des- 
tiny !  With  what  remorselessness  the  iron  wheels 
fit  into  each  other!  If  Both  well  and  Neumarck 
must  needs  have  a  fatal  quarrel,  why  should  it 
have  been  so  delayed?  A  day  earlier  would  have 
saved  Judith.  For  Paul,  at  whatever  cost  to 
himself,  had  resolved  to  guard  her  secret.  He 
knew  that  their  relations  never  could  be  any- 
thing but  formal,  and,  though  bearing  his  name, 
she  would  have  no  place  in  his  heart.  After  a 
fearful  struggle,  one  that  taxed  every  fibre  of 
his  being,  he  had  sworn  himself  to  secrecy.  If 
these  men,  therefore,  had  fought  before  Judith 
had  been  imperiously  summoned  to  the  Sembrada, 
her  life  would  not  have  gone  out  in  such  utter 
darkness. 

Knowing  of  Judith's  intense  love  for  the  South, 


THE    COMBINATION    ENDS         451 

and  realizing  that  she  had  no  claim  on  the  little 
cemetery  at  Pelham,  Paul  arranged  for  her 
burial  in  the  churchyard  of  St.  John's,  beside  the 
graves  of  her  father  and  mother. 

Father  Auvergne  met  the  little  company  at  the 
railway  station,  and,  with  a  voice  tremulous  with 
deep  emotion,  performed  the  last  rites  of  the 
church. 

"  I  kept  her  secret,"  Paul  said  to  the  aged 
priest,  as  they  turned  away  from  the  grave  now 
covered  with  flowers,  leaving  Mr.  Milltrum 
standing  with  bowed  and  uncovered  head  at  the 
tomb  of  Kate  Carreau. 

"  And  God  will  reward  you,  my  son,"  Father 
Auvergne  answered,  softly.  "  He  always  re- 
wards those  who  bear  the  cross  in  His  name. 
Does  Mr.  Milltrum  suspect  anything?" 

"  No." 

"  Nor  any  one  else  ?  "  glancing  for  a  moment 
at  the  Misses  Milltrum,  who  were  giving  a  final 
touch  to  the  flowers  on  Judith's  grave. 

"  No." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Bedford,  as  we  have  buried  Judith 
in  this  quiet  spot  where  she  sleeps  in  a  holy  peace, 
let  us  also  bury  the  secret  of  her  early  life.  Poor 
Judith!" 

For  reply,  Paul  held  out  his  hand,  which  Fa- 
ther Auvergne  clasped  silently,  and,  as  each  man 
looked  into  the  other's  face,  both  felt  that  a  cove- 
nant had  been  made  which  only  death  could  annul. 


XIII. 

CONCLUSION 

JL  RUE  to  his  promise,  Mr.  Milltrum  accepted 
Miriam  Holbrook's  generous  offer,  though  she 
little  imagined  his  purpose  in  doing  so.  For  that 
matter,  he  was  equally  in  the  dark  so  far  as  un- 
derstanding her  motive  in  making  such  a  propo- 
sition. That  a  young  woman,  because  of  a  chance 
rumor  affecting  the  credit  of  Milltrum  Bros., 
should  voluntarily  place  her  fortune  at  his  dis- 
posal, seemed  to  Mr.  Milltrum  a  remarkable 
proceeding.  He  determined  to  give  Miss  Hoi- 
brook  some  proof  of  his  appreciation  of  her 
kindness,  and  as  a  consequence  had  various 
chucklings  with  himself,  not  even  sharing  them 
with  Paul  Bedford.  Mr.  Milltrum  did  not  tell 
Miriam  that  the  mysterious  combination,  which 
threatened  such  dire  results  to  the  firm  bearing 
his  name,  had  collapsed  in  the  most  extraordinary 
way,  the  principals  disappearing  as  creatures  of 
a  dream.  Neither  did  he  say  that  Milltrum 
Bros,  had  not  only  weathered  the  storm,  nor  that 
Paul,  by  taking  advantage  of  the  stress  into 

452 


CONCLUSION  453 

which  some  men  were  driven,  was  able  to  regain 
all  that  had  been  lost,  with  a  handsome  profit  as 
well,  besides  placing  the  Saxby  interests  beyond 
all  risk.  Of  these  things  the  artful  Mr.  Milltrum 
said  not  a  word.  Yet  he  saw  Miss  Holbrook 
quite  often.  Indeed,  he  went  to  her  house  so 
frequently  that  Mrs.  Holbrook  sometimes  laughed 
at  Miriam  and  her  conquest  of  the  cheery  old 
Westerner. 

"  We  came  out  ahead  to-day,"  he  whispered 
to  Miriam  one  afternoon  as  she  handed  him  a 
cup  of  tea. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  she  whispered  in  return. 

"  I  think  the  worst  is  over,"  he  said,  know- 
ingly, helping  himself  to  an  extra  lump  of  sugar. 

Miriam's  face  brightened,  and  she  smiled  at 
him  gratefully. 

As  a  blessed  old  humbug,  Mr.  Milltrum  had 
few  equals.  That  very  day  Paul  had  made  what 
some  mien  would  call  a  fortune! 

So  it  went  on  for  several  weeks,  Mr.  Milltrum 
making  his  reports  to  Miriam  with  the  gravity 
of  a  Chinese  mandarin,  she  listening  with  un- 
abated eagerness.  Miriam  began  at  length  to 
feel  that  she  was  actually  a  sort  of  partner  in 
the  firm  of  Milltrum  Bros.,  an  associate  with 
Paul  Bedford!  To  think  of  this  gave  her  sin- 
gular pleasure.  She  therefore  looked  forward 
to  Mr.  Milltrum's  visits,  entering  earnestly  into 
the  conversation.  One  day,  much  to  her  disap- 


454        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

pointment,  he  returned  the  securities  she  had 
placed  at  his  disposal,  thanking  her  earnestly  for 
the  service  they  had  rendered.  With  the  papers 
was  a  little  package,  which  he  said  was  part  in- 
terest on  her  loan.  When  he  had  gone,  she 
opened  the  package  and  found  a,  diamond  neck- 
let, more  rich  and  beautiful  than  anything  she 
had  ever  seen.  Putting  it  aside  carefully,  not 
even  showing  the  jewels  to  her  mother,  she 
waited  for  Mr.  Milltrum's  next  visit. 

"  I  cannot  possibly  accept  such  a  costly  gift," 
she  said,  earnestly.  "  Besides,  Mr.  Milltrum, 
this  looks  like  payment,  and  you  know  I  never 
thought  of  such  a  thing." 

"  Payment !  Nonsense,  sheer  nonsense,  Miss 
Holbrook!  One  day,  during  the  flurry,  I  took 
what  we  call  a  '  little  flier,'  used  some  of  your 
money,  or  its  equivalent,  which  with  us  is  the 
same  thing.  Paul  managed  the  business  so  that 
we  came  out  on  the  right  side.  Then  I  took  the 
liberty  of  investing  your  share  in  these  trinkets, 
thinking  you  would  prefer  them  to  plain  money." 

Mr.  Milltrum  was  justified  in  saying  that  he 
had  taken  a  "  little  flier."  He  had  taken  several. 
"  Little  fliers  "  were  a  pastime  of  his,  and  he 
would  sometimes  get  more  actual  fun  out  of  them 
than  from  larger  investments.  But  how  he  came 
to  say  that  he  had  used  Miriam's  money  is  a 
financial  mystery.  For  Miriam's  securities 
never  once  left  the  private  safe  in  Paul  Bed- 


CONCLUSION  455 

ford's  office  from  the  day  they  were  first  put 
there  until  they  were  returned  to  her  by  Mr. 
Milltrum ! 

"  Your  assistance  was  most  timely,  Miss  Hoi- 
brook.  It  was  exceedingly  kind  of  you.  We 
had  many  offers  of  help  during  this  trouble,  but 
none  was  more  gratefully  received  than  yours." 

In  saying  this,  Mr.  Milltrum  gave  Miriam 
the  feeling  that  she  had  helped  to  save  Milltrum 
Bros,  from  bankruptcy! 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  my  trifling  help  was 
worth  all  this  ?  "  she  asked,  as  she  looked  at  the 
diamonds  glittering  in  her  hand. 

"  Worth  a  great  deal  more.  Paul  said  so  when 
I  gave  him  your  letter.  You  can  keep  the  trinket 
with  a  clear  conscience." 

And  she  did,  though  never  wearing  it,  at  least 
not  for  some  time,  outside  of  her  own  room.  But 
she  frequently  put  it  on  there,  and  a  glad  light 
would  shine  in  her  eyes  when  she  remembered 
that  the  jewels  were  the  result  of  her  partnership 
with  Paul. 

When  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Saxby  returned  from 
Europe,  Mrs.  Saxby  was  most  urgent  in  her  de- 
sire that  Paul  should  make  his  home  in  Pelham, 
pleading  that  as  he  was  now  alone  and  had  no 
home  ties  in  New  York,  he  could  do  this  without 
inconvenience  to  himself.  So  he  went  back  to 
the  place  where  he  had  first  met  Miriam,  and 
her  memory  seemed  even  more  grateful  than  ever. 


456        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

Mrs.  Saxby,  greatly  to  Doctor  Barrington's  sur- 
prise, most  vividly  recalled  her  strange  experience 
at  Interlaken,  and  questioned  him  again  and  again 
with  regard  to  that  evening  when  she  was  so 
startled  by  what  seemed  an  apparition.  The 
doctor  frankly  admitted  his  own  feeling  when 
Miss  Holbrook  came  down  that  same  evening 
from  her  room  to  speak  with  Paul  on  the  hotel 
piazza.  But  he  had  no  explanation  to  offer,  con- 
fessing that  the  likeness  was  so  extraordinary 
that  the  one  would  anywhere  be  taken  for  the 
other.  Had  Doctor  Barrington  known  that  the 
two  Miriams  were  born  on  the  same  day,  and 
that  the  resemblance  in  disposition  and  charac- 
ter was  fully  as  definite  as  that  of  form  and 
feature,  he  would  have  been  even  more  perplexed. 

In  the  spring,  Paul  having  urgent  business  in 
London,  which  was  likely  to  detain  him  there 
for  some  months,  suggested  that  the  Milltrums 
take  a  house  with  him  in  Portman  Square. 

"  On  two  conditions,"  Mr.  Milltrum  answered, 
"  that  Maud  give  up  duke  hunting,  and  Peggy 
solemnly  promise  not  to  drag  me  up  the  Gemmi. 
I  am  willing  that  Maud  should  marry,  but  I  draw 
the  line  at  dukes.  I  might  consent  to  an  earl,  or 
even  a  marquis,  but  a  duke  never." 

"  He  was  once  mistaken  for  a  duke,  you  re- 
member, Paul,  in  Switzerland,  and  since  then 
to  mention  one  in  his  presence  is  like  a  red  rag 
to  a  bull,"  Maud  laughingly  retorted. 


CONCLUSION  457 

"  Portmlan  Square  is  swarming  with  dukes,  and 
who  knows  but  even  Peggy  may  become  a  duch- 
ess." 

"  I  remember  very  distinctly  your  honoring 
me  with  a  title,  and  for  a  whole  evening  address- 
ing me  as  '  My  lord.'  Have  you  forgotten  ?  " 

"  No,  Peggy,  I  haven't.  Nor  am  I  likely  to. 
You  remind  me  of  it  often  enough,  goodness 
knows." 

"  Bert  Vernon  has  given  me  a  dress  rehearsal 
of  that  performance,"  Paul  said.  "  I  wish  —  " 

"  That  Bert  Vernon  was  in  Jericho.  I  didn't 
grimace  and  smirk  one-fiftieth  part  of  his  per- 
formance of  the  show." 

"  Eighteen  times  in  three  minutes  you  '  My 
lorded  '  me,"  Peggy  interjected.  "  I  kept  count. 
And  you  boast  of  being  descended  from  the  Pil- 
grim Fathers!  Would  you  believe  it,  Paul,  he 
carries  a  bit  of  Plymouth  Rock  in  his  vest-pocket. 
But  at  Cranburg's  — 

"  A  mtan  allowed  a  designing  woman  to  mud- 
dle his  wits,  a  sin  for  which  he  has  had  to  do 
all  kinds  of  penance,  and  of  which  he  is  often 
painfully  reminded,"  retorted  Mr.  Milltrum,  add- 
ing, "  Paul,  unless  you  covenant  and  agree  to 
restrain  Peggy  from  wanderings  on  the  Gemmii, 
nothing  will  induce  me  to  go  with  you." 

They  went  to  London,  remaining  there  until 
September,  though  Paul  left  them  for  a  couple 
of  weeks  in  August.  Had  he  been  followed  by 


458        THE    MYSTERY    OF    MIRIAM 

any  one  careful  to  mark  his  doings,  he  might 
have  been  seen  in  the  American  Chapel  one  Sun- 
day morning,  the  only  Sunday  he  spent  in  Paris ; 
and  then,  a  few  days  later,  he  went  over  the 
Gemmi  Pass,  remaining  all  night  at  the  little 
hospice  near  the  summit,  actually  sitting  in  the 
crow's  nest,  where  he  had  once  sat  with  Miriam 
Holbrook! 

But  no  one  followed  him,  so  his  doings  were 
not  known  to  the  Milltrums. 

Mrs.  Saxby,  through  some  mutual  friends, 
easily  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Holbrooks, 
and,  during  Paul's  absence,  invited  Miriam  to 
Pelham.  At  first  Mrs.  Saxby  was  more  nervous 
and  disturbed  than  she  seemed,  and  at  times 
regretted  the  presence  of  her  guest.  But  in  a 
few  days  this  feeling  wore  away.  Then  she 
found  her  heart  going  out  most  strangely  to  the 
new  Miriam.  She  would  listen  for  her  voice 
as  a  mother  for  that  of  her  child.  She  watched 
her  every  movement  with  rare  delight.  When 
Miriam,  at  the  table,  or  in  the  library,  would 
indulge  in  some  pleasantry,  or  turn  aside  grace- 
fully a  chance  remark  of  Mr.  Saxby,  Mrs.  Saxby 
would  look  at  her  as  though  seeing  and  hearing 
again  the  Miriam  of  years  before.  Mr.  Saxby 
was  equally  impressed,  and  long  ere  Miriam's 
visit  had  closed  the  iron  doors  of  his  heart  were 
reopened,  and  she  had  entered  to  take  a  daugh- 
ter's place. 


CONCLUSION  459 

After  she  had  gone,  the  house  seemed  very 
lonely  and  desolate,  so  much  so  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Saxby  went  to  Newport  for  the  rest  of  the  sum- 
mer. In  the  fall  they  prevailed  upon  Miriam 
to  spend  a  few  days  with  them  at  Pelham,  when 
the  autumnal  foliage  was  in  its  glory  and  the 
September  skies  were  rich  in  light  and  beauty. 

She  was  standing  on  the  broad  steps  one  even- 
ing, watching  with  glowing  face  a  sunset  of 
marvellous  brilliance,  when  she  heard  the  sound 
of  carriage  wheels  coming  up  the  gravelled  drive- 
way, and  in  another  moment  Paul  Bedford  sprang 
from  the  carriage,  and  was  at  her  side. 

"  Miriam !  "  he  said,  in  a  whisper,  looking 
eagerly  into  her  shining  eyes. 

"  Paul ! "  she  answered,  with  a  smile  that 
filled  his  heart  to  overflowing.  Then  he  kissed 
her,  and  in  that  kiss  he  found  the  Miriam  he 
had  lost,  and  she  found  the  Paul  for  whom  her 
soul  had  hungered. 


THE   END. 


NAMI-KO 

A   Realistic   Novel 

TRANSLATED     FROM     THE     JAPANESE     OF 

Kenjiro     Tokutomi 

By 
SAKAE    SHIOYA 

and 

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C.  A  remarkable  story,  by  the  greatest  living 
Japanese  novelist.  It  presents  an  accurate 
picture  of  upper-class  life  in  Japan,  with  a  story 
illustrating  the  great  struggle  going  on  between 
Feudal  and  Modern  ideas. 

C.The  story  was  written  in  1900  with  no 
idea  that  it  would  ever  be  translated,  so  that 
the  reader  does  not  see  the  people  in  the  act 
of  posing  for  a  picture,  but  in  their  every-day 
life.  Since  1900  it  has  been  reprinted  39 
times,  and  has  been  and  is  still  the  most  popu- 
lar novel  ever  published  in  Japan. 

HERBERT    B.    TURNER    &    CO. 

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AN     UNIQUE     ROMANCE 


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story  is  distinctly  above  the  standard 
of  present-day  novels.  Its  author  has  an 
interesting  story  to  tell,  and  he  tells  it  with 
the  skill  of  one  who  has  had  considerable 
experience  in  the  art  of  writing.  Moreover 
he  knows  the  life  and  the  class  of  people  he 
describes,  and  has  a  constant  gift  of  humor 
which  enlivens  his  narrative. 
4IJt  is  the  story  of  an  American  girl  who 
takes  a  remarkable  voice  to  Europe  and  finds 
—  many  things. 

^The  scenes  are  set  in  those  unique  insti- 
tutions, the  German,  Swiss,  and  French 
Pension,  which  with  their  guests  are  painted 
to  the  life. 

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C.Miss  Jones  has  founded  her  novel  on  the  law 
of  heredity,  and  has  introduced  an  element  of 
mystery  which  with  a  love  story  of  uncommon 
interest  makes  a  book  that  will  hold  the  reader's 
keenest  attention  to  the  end.  The  scenes  are  laid 
in  Nova  Scotia,  United  States,  England  and  the 
Continent. 

C.Miss  Alice  Jones  is  the  daughter  of  the  Honor- 
able Alfred  Gilpin  Jones,  Lieutenant-Governor  of 
Nova  Scotia. 

Sample  of  ®8JJ)at  t&e  Wetospapers  Sag 

C."  Miss  Jones  has  already  won  herself  more  than 
a  Canadian  reputation  by  her  literary  work,  but  in 
this,  her  latest  effort,  she  has  at  one  bound  placed 
herself  in  the  front  rank  of  Canadian  writers." 

Canadian  Magazine. 

C,"  Canadian  fiction  has  been  enriched  by  the  pro- 
duction of  "  Bubbles  We  Buy." 

San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

C."  A  story  which  one  will  enjoy  and  pass  on  to 
a  friend  as  worth  while."     St.  Louis  Republic. 
C."  If  this  daughter  of  Nova  Scotia  can  continue 
to  do  as  good  work  as  she  has  put  into  this  tale, 
her  future  is  assured."     Brooklyn  Eagle. 
C."  We  place  the  book  among  the  first  five  of  the 
novels  of  the  current  year."     Baltimore  Sun. 

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Each  title-page  contains  a  vignetted  Photogravure  of  some 
scene  associated  with  him,  such  as  his  birthplace,   Edin- 
burgh Home,  Samoan  Home,  Edinburgh  University,  etc. 

(Eefgapg  ani  Criticisms 

^Containing  papers  describing  walking  tours, 
Swiss  Life,  and  the  study  of  literature.  Collected 
for  the  first  time.  2  Photogravures,  I  volume. 

^ficmonrd  anfc  portraits 

C_ Sixteen  literary  gems  descriptive  of  Steven- 
son's early  life  and  thought.  Illustrated  by  three 
portraits  of  Stevenson  and  nine  pictures  associ- 
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power  could  be  given  than  in  these  nine  studies. 
9  portraits  and  4  Photogravures,  2  volumes. 

llirgtnibus  IJucrisqur  anH  Otbrr  Wapew 

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most  charming  essays  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
I  volume.  2  Photogravures. 

Sin  Sfalanti  ^opajp 

C.A  modern  "  Sentimental  Journey."  Dainty, 
bright  and  picturesque.  Illustrated  by  3  Photo- 
gravures, I  volume. 

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